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THE 



BOOK OF MANNERS: 



A MANUAL Or 



GOOD BEHAVIOR 



POLITE ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 



R0BERT n DE VALCGtJRT. 






M 



rofuselg lUastratebi 



CINCINNATI: 

E. W. CARROLL & CO., PUBLISHERS, 

73 WEST FOURTH STREET, 
OPERA-HOUSE BUILDING. 

1865. 






i$^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, A. D. 1864, by 
R. W. CARROLL & CO., 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United State9 
for the Southern District of Ohio. 



2- & 1 &> O 



INTRODUCTION. 




Publishers op the "Illustrated 
Book of Manners " have much satis- 
faction in offering the following pages 
to the public inspection. 

They ask more than a cursory 
glance at head lines and engravings; 
for it is a work of a higher use and greater importance 
than any one would be likely to suspect, from a slight 
and superficial examination. 

It treats of a subject of universal interest and utility. 
Every man, woman and child, ought to know how to 
dress, act, converse and respond to the varied demands 
of our social relations, in the best possible manner. Our 
whole life and society needs re-forming, educating, re- 
fining, and polishing, to bring out its highest use and 
beauty. 

Life is made up of little things; little acts, little 

courtesies, little enjoyments. He who has most of these, 

gives most pleasure to others, and secures most happiness 

to himself. 

Do not say, these things are trifles, and of no import- 



IV INTRODUCTION. 

ance. It is worth every man's study and effort to be a 
gentleman; and every woman should try to be a lady, 
particularly in a country where public gallantry accords 
to every one that designation. The many things which 
combine to form the manners and guide the deportment 
of the lady and gentleman, greatly increase the sum of 
human happiness. 

The author of this work has earnestly endeavored to 
make it a great public teacher, and reformer, in all the 
outward decencies, proprieties, graces, and accomplish- 
ments, which fit men and women for the enjoyment of 
social life; and as society is a natural want of humanity, 
and the source of all his most exquisite pleasures, sure- 
ly it is right that he should carefully avoid every thing 
that will interfere with social happiness, and eagerly 
cultivate every talent and accomplishment, that will 
enhance its pleasures. 

The illustrations have been selected from the works of 
various artists; and are intended to contrast grace and 
elegance, with awkwardness and deformity. In many 
cases, the advice of the text is enforced by a picture in 
ludicrous contrast; and the intention of the engravings 
can only be understood by the careful reader. It would 
have been easy to fill a book with beautiful designs, but 
these would not have taught the lessons of life, which 
it was our intention to impress vividly on the mind of 
the reader. 

This book is intended to be read, and even carefully 
studied, in course, from the first chapter to the last. 
Some chapters may be more worthful than others, but 
each one contains its Life Lesson, and all combine in one 
harmonious whole, in their influence upon the character 
and actions. The author has endeavored, everywhere, 
" To make the useful pleasant, and the pleasant useful." 



CONTENTS. 



PASS 

CHAPTER I. — Principles of Behavior. — Happiness 
the End of Being ; Rights of the Faculties ; Minor 
Morals ; Radiation of Happiness ; Science of Beha- 
vior ; Sin of Omission 9-15 

CHAPTER II. — Good Manners Founded on Human 
Rights. — Rights of the Senses ; Rights of Organs ; 
Deportment ; Conformity of Manners ; The True 
Harmony 16-22 

CHAPTER ni. — Care of the Person. — Eccentrici- 
ties ; The Accomplishment of Cleanliness ; A Hint 
to Ladies; Salutary Advice ; Unpresentableness. . 23-29 

CHAPTER IV.— Dress.— Morals of Dress; Bloomer 
and Masculine Costumes ; Appropriateness of Style 
and Texture ; Costume for Ladies ; Gentlemen's 
Dress ; The Hair ; The Beard ; Gloves ; Models of 
Beauty ; Work for Ladies 30-48 

CHAPTER V. — Habits and Manners. — Looks and 
Behavior ; Hints to the Beautiful ; Uses of Dress ; 
Grace of Attitude ; How they make Soldiers ; Phil- 
osophy of Education ; The Art of Walking 49-58 

CHAPTER VI.— Things you must Avoid.— Negative 
Rules of Conduct ; Savagisms in Civilization ; Re- 
sults of Tobacco; Should Ladies Smoke? The Higher 
Law of Manners ; Temperance ; Refinement in Eat- 
ing ; Rights of Organs ; The Breath ; Rudeness of 
Expression; Personal Rights ; Intrusions and Imper- 
tinences ; Being and Doing 59-75 



VI CONTENTS. 

PAGH 

CHAPTER VII.— A Bill of Rights.— Graces and 
Utilities ; Toleration of Opinion and Action ; Mind 
your Business ; Freedom of Life ; Attractions and 
Repulsions ; Criticism : Right of Privacy ; Reputa- 
tion and Character ; Graceful Manners 5 Charms of 
Social Intercourse 76-95 

CHAPTER VIII.— Of Society. — What is Society? 
Birth and Blood ; A real Aristocracy 96-99 

CHAPTER IX. — Social Forms and Observances. — 
Gaucherie ; Introductions ; Address ; Salutation ; 
Forms and Privileges ; Civilized Gallantry 5 Mutual 
Influence of the Sexes ; Boys and Girls in Society ; 
Marriage and Jealousy ; The Rule Absolute ; Social 
Equity ; Manners to a Lady ; Calls and Cards ; Pro- 
miscuous Kissing ; Visits. 100-127 

CHAPTER X. — The Etiquette of the Table. — Hos- 
pitality ; Dinner Party; Company at Table; Table 
Manners ; Taking Wine ; Setting a Table ; Waiting 
on Guests ; Self-Control ; Delicacy in Eating 128-141 

CHAPTER XI. — A Chapter for the Ladies. — Fe- 
male Heroism ; Woman's Sphere and Rights ; Points 
of Breeding ; Coquetry and Prudery ; Character and 
Candor; A Social Pivot ; Housekeeping; Receiving 
Company ; Conversation ; Costume ; Rules of Cus- 
tom ; Escort ; Freedom of Women 142-160 

CHAPTER XH. — Conversation. — Improving Natural 
Gifts ; Elements of Tone ; Modulations of the Voice ; 
Articulation ; Difficulties and Peculiarities of Speech; 
Reading and Accent; Faults and Excellences in 
Speaking ; Grammatical Errors ; Conversational 
Equity ; Decencies of Speech ; Dramatic and Lyric 
Art; Laws of Conversatioa ; Compliments; Display 
and Boasting; Truth; Politeness and Morality; 
Scandal ; A Social Pirate 161-208 

CHAPTER XIII.— Conversational Errors.— Case of 
Mr. Blossom; Slang; Profanity; Offensive Subjects; 
Exclamations; Giggling; Caut; Violent Emotions ; 
Forbidden Topics : Reputation ; Secrets ; Controver- 
sies ; Quarrels ; Friendship ; Business 209-228 

CHAPTER XIV.— The Etiquette of Occasions.— 
Religious Observances ; Various Sects; Manners ia 



CONTENTS. Vil 

pa<m 
Church ; Place of Honor ; Conformity to Custom; 
Local Observances ; Funerals ; Marriages ; Musical 
Proprieties ; New Years ; Christmas 5 Birth Days ; 
Manners at the Theater ; Hotels 229-249 

CHAPTER XV.— Op Various Relations.— Husband 
and Wife; Parents and Children; Punishment; Rights 
of Offspring ; Family Affection ; Teachers and Guar- 
dians ; Clergymen ; Professional Etiquette ; Titles 
and Dignities ; Literary People and Artists ; Editors 
and Poets ; Christian Principles 250-265 

CHAPTER XVI. — Expression of Senses and Facul- 
ties. — Sensational Etiquette ; Manners of the Facul- 
ties ; Vitativeness, Alimentiveness, Philoprogeni- 
tiveness, Combativeness, etc ; Etiquette of the Pas- 
sions, Sentiments, and Intellectual Faculties 266-286 

CHAPTER XVH. — Love and Courtship. — Love of 
the Sexes ; Social Attractions ; First Love ; Rash 
Engagements ; Marriageable Conditions ; Prudent 
Cautions ; Forms of Courtship ; Choosing a Wife ; 
" Wait for the Right One ;'" Breach of Promise ; 
Advice to Ladies; Love Eternal ; Promises and Obli- 
gations ; The American Belle ; Honorable Intentions; 
Effect of Disappointment ; Marrying for Money ; De- 
ception in Courtship ; Jealousy ; Character of a Co- 
quette ; Flirtation ; Engagement ; Old Bachelors and 
Old Maids 287-314 

CHAPTER XVIII.— Marriage.— What is Marriage? 
Freedom of Choice ; Mutual Fidelity ; The Cere- 
mony ; Mr. Brown ; Wedding Dresses ; Wedding 
Etiquette ; After Marriage ; Conjugal Rights ; Duty 
of Wives ; Maxims on Marriage 315-329 

CHAPTER XIX. — Writing and Correspondence. — 
The Uses of Writing ; Materials ; Can you Spell ? 
Punctuation ; The Hand-writing ; Business Letters ; 
Notes and Invitations ; Letters of Introduction : Bills, 
Notes, Drafts, Receipts ; Superscriptions ; Corres- 
pondence ; Love Letters ; Style 330-352 

CHAPTER XX.— Music— A Social Art ; Melody and 
Harmony ; Faults of Singers ; Time and Tune ; Gen- 
eral Rules ; Articulation ; Expression ; Technical 
Terms in Music; Musical Knowledge; The Opera. 353-368 



viii CONTENTS. 

Men 

CHAPTER XXI.— Gymnastics, Dancing, &c— Exer- 
cise : National Pastimes ; Early Training ; Calis- 
thenic and Gymnastic Exercises : National Dances ; 
Tableaux Vivants ; Positions of Grace and Beauty ; 
Elements of Dancing; The Quadrille; Indian Dances; 
French Dancing ; Dance Music ; Polka ; Schottish ; 
Waltz ; How to make a Bow ; To enter and leave a 
Room ; Eccentricities ; Ball Room Etiquette 369-412 

CHAPTER XXH— Horsemanship.— Art of Riding; 
Position in Riding; Costume* A Lady's Horse; 
Mounting and Dismounting ; Position in the Sad- 
dle ; Management of the Horse 413-425 

CHAPTER XXHI.— Foreign Languages.— Uses of 
the Study of Languages ; Latin and Greek ; French 
Language ; French Pronunciation ; French Phrases ; 
Rules for Pronouncing Italian ; Spanish Pronuncia- 
tion ; German; General Rules of Pronunciation. 426-445 

CHAPTER XXTV — Poetry. — Rhythm; Versifica- 
tion 446-451 

CHAPTER XXV.— Fashion and the Toilette. — Es- 
thetics of Dress; Philosophy of Hats; the Hair; 
Dandyism; Harmony of Colors; Ladies' Styles; 
Head Dresses; Bonnets; Necessities of the Toil- 
ette 452-475 

CHAPTER XXVI.— Concluding Remarks.— Breed- 
ing and Culture; Courtesy; Attitude of the Bar- 
racks; an American Custom; Little Habits; Ad- 
vice and Admonitions for various Occasions. ..476-490 




CHAPTER I 

principles of behavior. 

The Gentlb 
Reader, as each 
one is or will be, 
may have long 
sought for this 
work, or one of 
a like import. 
It comes now to 
fill a wide and 
urgent demand ; for the young 
American, unlike the citizen 
of almost every other nation, 
has no barrier of caste or 
order, but is free to rise to 
the highest place of social 
distinction, requiring only the 
talents, culture, and accom- 
plishments of such a sphere. 
These talents are the gift of Nature ; but all the 
development of education, and improvement of cul- 
ture, and embellishment of art, are within our own 
power. In this land of Freedom, of Ambition, and 
of energetic Self-hood, every aid is demanded which 
can contribute to the highest social achievement j 
and such aid is the right of every man or woman. 




10 HAPPINESS THE END OF BEING, 

The law, that demand should govern supply, 
applies to literature and art, as well as to corn and 
cotton ; yet great demands may exist unconsciously. 
You may have long had a demand for such a book 
as this, and yet not become aware of it, until, in 
some way, it was brought to your knowledge. So 
of many other things. 

Consciously or unconsciously, every being has the 
aspiration for the highest development, and the 
greatest happiness it is capa,ble of. Every man has 
the desire to be a gentleman, every woman a lady ; 
which is, simply to be the best possible man or wo- 
man within their capabilities. 

And this aspiration after the utmost perfection 
of being and doing, is felt to be a right, a duty, and 
a means of happiness. When the poet exclaims, 

" Happiness ! our being's end and aim," 

he utters a truth which lies at the basis of all true 
philosophy, and all true morality. 

Happiness — it is the one object of all sentient 
being : it is also the single object of this treatise. 
Happiness comes from the satisfaction of our wants, 
or attractions. It is found in the exercise of our 
capacities, and the attainment of our aspirations. 
Every faculty of every being finds pleasure in its 
proper use, and the highest happiness consists in 
the harmonious gratification of all passions, all at- 
tractions, all aspirations. 

It is the right and the duty of every being to 
live its own true life, and its happiness is secured by 
the development and exercise of its highest and full- 
est capabilities. There can be, of course, no right 
to do a wrong ; no duty can include impossibilities. 
Life consists in being and doing. The doing cornea 



RIGHTS OF THE FACULTIES. 11 

from the constitution of the being ; and the being 
is perfected, in its true development, by all genuine 
doing. 

The being of a horse is his symmetry, strength, 
beauty, fleetness, and all his capabilities. His doing 
is the exercise of these capabilities ; and his enjoy- 
ment and happiness consist in his being the best 
possible horse, and doing the highest duty of the most 
noble horse-hood. The being of a man is the assem- 
blage of all his capabilities. His bones and mus- 
cles, his strength and activity, his grace and beauty, 
his senses and organs, his propensities, sentiments, 
and intellectual faculties, all swell the wealth of his 
being. Each faculty has its own life, its own rights, 
and its own capabilities of happiness ; and all com- 
bine to make up the harmony of the complete being, 
which we call a man ; and it is the full, equal, and 
harmonious satisfaction of all these faculties, which 
constitute the greatest happiness, and so fulfill the 
end of manhood. The sole use of life is the enjoy- 
ment of life. Low enjoyments come from the exer- 
cise of low faculties, separated from, or uncontrolled 
by higher. High enjoyments consist in the exercise 
of the noblest faculties, of honor, devotion, benevo- 
lence, and justice ; but the happiness of these, 
though pure and consoling, is not complete. No- 
thing can fully satisfy the aspirations of the human 
soul, but the complete and harmonious gratification 
of all its desires and capabilities of enjoyment. 

Therefore — and this is an important therefore— 
therefore, small things are of great consequence. A 
leaf is a little thing, but leaves make up the foliage 
of a tree, and each leaf has its own vital function. 
A man is not willing to spare his little finger. The 
little graces, accomplishments, and suavities of life, 



12 INFLUENCE OF THE MINOR MORALS. 

are like the leaves of the tree ; like the petals of 
its flowers, like the thousands of minute but charm- 
ing things in nature which make up the sum of her 
attractions. 

Or, to be less poetical, perhaps, and more prac- 
tical, the happiness of life in the aggregate — of the 
lives of the millions of men, women and children 
around us, is far more influenced by manners and 
behavior ; by the minor morals, or a regard to small 
rights and decorums ; by kindness, politeness, and 
the elegancies of what some may think trifling ac- 
complishments, than by any noble or heroic actions 
of benevolence, or self-sacrifice, or magnanimity 
Such acts fall within the opportunities of few, and 
cannot occur often ; but the others may enter into 
our daily and hourly lives, and diffuse their influ- 
ence over our whole existence. 

The consciousness of possessing a cultivated taste, 
gentle breeding, refined manners, and an agreeable 
exterior, is no trifle in the sum of happiness ; and 
the exercise of these qualities in social intercourse, 
giving happiness to others, causes that happiness to 
be reflected upon ourselves. So this joy of being 
and action is radiated and reflected every where ; 
and its circling blessings, like the light of the stars, 
spread through the universe. 

Is it not so ? Is it not a happiness, Madam, to 
feel yourself charming ; beautiful in form and fea- 
ture, if so blessed ; beautiful in carriage and man- 
ner, as you may be ; beautiful in the neatness and 
elegance of your dress ; beautiful in the kindness 
a nd politeness that shines forth in every expression ? 
You are happy in all this ; you see others happy in 
admiring you. You feel that you add to the sum 
of human happiness. You are a living joy — a bless- 



RADIATION OF HAPPINESS. 13 

ing in yourself, a blessing to all who see you. Men 
pause in their busiest walks to look at you, and feel 
better for the looking. Each visit you make dif- 
fuses a new joy. The day is full of delights. You 
give a new charm to many lives — thus happiness is 
radiated upon other spirits, and so on, outward and 
onward, until your beauty has charmed the world, 
and your smile, like the beams of those far off stars, 
will shine upon posterity. 

And everything which contributes to the harmony 
of life in any being ; every line of beauty, or motion 
of grace, or assemblage of pleasant colors, or con- 
cord of sweet sounds — every look, or word, or 
action, which gives pleasure, and promotes happi- 
ness, becomes a high moral duty. 

This is no question of fancy, of caprice, of arbi- 
trary custom, or fashion ; but it becomes one of 
rights and duties, important enough for pulpits, and 
grave enough for legislators. 

11 Manners make the man," some proverbial phi- 
losopher informs us. The man makes the manners. 
Being comes before doing ; and a man's manners are 
the outward expression and manifestation of his 
interior life. 

Always ? No. There is the power of assmning 
a virtue, if we have it not. A bad man may assume 
the exterior air and manners of goodness. The 
crafty may seem frank. The haughty may wear the 
guise of friendliness. Ferocity may seem gentle ; 
and these appearances and counterfeits may deceive 
those who have not the power of looking through 
shams. 

So, some men are worse than they seem ; and 
this hypocrisy is detestable. Well, is it nothing 
that men, out of deference to goodness, desire to 



14 SCIENCE OF BEHAVIOR. : 

seem and be thought better than they are ? Be 
sure there are two sides to this question. Would 
you have men manifest all their badness without 
restraint? Is it not better that even the bad 
should feel the necessity of putting on a good ap- 
pearance, as a recognition of the general sentiment 
in favor of goodness ? 

Bat good manners are no more likely to be hypc- 
critical than bad ones. We have seen persons, 
quite estimable in some respects, putting on the 
eccentricity of ugliness ; and acting with brusquerie 
and even brutality, to get credit for frankness and 
honesty. But, in these cases, people wish to turn 
some defect of temper into a merit. 

But all these principles, and all that makes up 
the Science of Behavior, will appear hereafter, and 
need not be stated in the form of abstract proposi- 
tions. There is no rule of life which is not ba»ed on 
science, and which may not be referred to some 
principle or law. Doubtless there may be obser- 
vances of etiquette which seem purely arbitrary and 
capricious, but they are few, and of no consequence. 
Even these, if carefully examined, may be found to 
have, or to have had, some good reason. But every 
genuine and valuable rule of behavior may be re- 
ferred to some principle of natural law ; so that the 
observance of what may seem at first glance a mat- 
ter of trifling etiquette, may be a moral duty ; and 
a breach of decorum a crime. 

A rudeness to any person is an offense, and is 
even recognized as such at law. The neglect of 
politeness, in certain cases, is a positive rudeness. 
The man who does not do what is becoming to a 
gentleman, commits a sin of omission, which may be 
a very grave one. He who does not prevent an 



SIN OF OMISSION. 



15 



injury, when it is in his power, might almost as well 
inflict it. The man who neglects to save life, is not 
much better than a downright murderer. So, a 
neglect of politeness may be the severest insult that 
can be offered. 

Every breach of good manners is some violation 
of right. Every neglect of politeness is a failure in 
duty. Men and women are members of society. 
They have all social wants, and social duties, grow- 
ing out of their social relations. It is not enough 
that I let people alone, and injure no one. It is not 
enough to " cease to do evil f we must also " learn 
to do well." But this question of rights demands a 
separate chapter. 




WHAT DO YOU MEAN 



CHAPTER II. 



GOOD MANNERS FOUNDED ON HUMAN RIGHTS. 



is becoming 
every day more 
evident, that all 
real things on 
this planet are 
based on cer- 
tain principles 
of right or jus- 
tice, which are 
adapted to the 
true nature and 
proper condi- 
tion of all men 
and women. 
Arbitrary regulations, whe- 
ther of manners or morals, 
are of little value, if they 
are not in accordance with 
these universal laws. For 
every possible requirement 
there must be some good reason. A law that is 
not founded in the natural principles of justice, is 
void from the beginning ; or becomes of no effect, 
or obsolete, as soon as the emergency has passed 
for which it was ordained. 




RIGHTS OF THE SENSES. IT 

" Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness," 
Mr. Jefferson, are very comprehensive terms ; but 
each includes the others ; and each includes all 
rights. The right to live includes the right to all 
the conditions necessary to the most perfect devel- 
opment of the being and capabilities. Liberty is 
the right of every one to seek his own happiness in 
his own chosen way, so long as he does not trespass 
upon the equal right of every other. The Pursuit 
of Happiness in every being, consists in its efforts 
to satisfy its natural desires. 

Every faculty and every organ has its own special 
rights. The right not to be offended — the right to 
gratification and pleasure. Take the senses, for ex- 
ample. Taste has the right not to be compelled to 
eat unsavory food ; and the right to seek for gusta- 
tory enjoyments. The parent who compels a child 
to eat a piece of fat pork, or any other viand loath- 
some to its unperverted taste, violates the rights of 
this sense. It is violated wherever men are depriv- 
ed of healthy food, and fruits of delightful flavors. 
The host who provides good food, and the cook who 
prepares it, exercise the politeness of taste, and sat- 
isfy the rights of appetite. 

The smell has its rights, but they are everywhere 
violated. Whoever fills the air I must breathe with 
unpleasant odors, is guilty of a wrong. If the 
smell is merely unpleasant, it is an impoliteness ; if 
unwholesome, it is a crime ; and, as a general law, 
unpleasant odors are also unwholesome. Poor nose ! 
its rights are little recognized. Our streets are 
filled with nauseous odors ; and the personal unclean- 
liness of many persons is an outrage to this sense. 
But of this hereafter. 

Sight has a right to beauty, symmetry, and ele- 
2 



18 RIGHTS OF THE SENSES. 

gance of form ; harmony of colors ; grace of move- 
ment, and every pleasing quality. It has a right to 
fine scenery, noble architecture, elegant furniture 
and decorations, to exquisite works of art, and to 
all possible beauty of person, costume, and adorn- 
ment. Its rights are denied by deprivation of these 
enjoyments, and it is outraged by every obtrusion of 
ugliness. 

Hearing has the right to sweet and melodious 
sounds, and the grand harmonies of musical art : it 
is offended by noise, confusion, and all harsh, dis- 
sonant, and repulsive sounds. 

If we suffer, it is probably for our own offences ; 
with what justice, then, can we inflict our evils upon 
others ? If you have a heartache, and any one has 
contracted to give you sympathy, it is your right, 
perhaps. You need not trouble the whole world. 
So if you have a toothache, let it be a private mat- 
ter between yourself and your doctor or dentist 

There is scarcely a greater fault of manners, or 
offence against the rigbts of others, than the un- 
necessary obtrusion of painful, repulsive, or dis- 
gusting ideas or things. "What can't be cured 
must be endured," it is said ; but it should be en- 
dured quietly, gracefully, and so as not to burthen 
others. He who conceals a pain, an affliction, or a 
misfortune, from politeness, which is but another 
name for kindness, or benevolence, is a true hero. 

With vulgar people, the chief staple of conver- 
sation consists of the aches, sicknesses, and misfor- 
tunes of themselves and their neighbors; but such 
things ought never to be brought into a circle of 
refined society. We should no more pain or disgust 
others, than inflict bodily injuries. 



RIGHTS OF ORGANS. 19 

In the same way, every organ of the body, and 
every faculty of the mind, has its rights and its 
sources of happiness. To close the window of an 
omnibus or rail car, may be a violation of the polite- 
ness due to my lungs, as much as snatching the food 
from my hand would be a wrong to my stomach. 
Interrupting a story I wish to hear, is an impolite- 
ness and violation of my rights ; it prevents the 
satisfaction of my faculty of eventuality — as a vol- 
ley of abuse might be an outrage to my approba- 
tiveness. 

Let these principles, so briefly stated, be borne in 
mind, and it will be seen that a Manners Book is 
truly a work of deep philosophy and profound sci- 
ence ; that etiquette is based on principles and 
laws ; that behavior may have its foundation in 
mathematics ; that grace of deportment is a noble 
art ; that from the slightest act of complaisance, to 
the highest moral duty, the same great principles 
should govern us. 

It has been said that each individual has the right 
to secure his own happiness in his own way, so long 
as he does not interfere with the equal right of 
every other. This is true, but not the whole truth. 
-Each individual doss secure the greatest possible 
happiness to himself, when he promotes in the high- 
est degree the happiness of all other beings. The 
good of one is the good of all. 

It might be supposed that in the solitude of a 
hermit, the life of a Robinson Crusoe, in the isola- 
tion of utter loneliness, a man might be free to do 
any absurd or outrageous thing he might fancy. 
True, he may whistle, sing, laugh or shout, without 
annoying any one ; he may cut capers, make grim- 
aces, roll upon the ground ; he may wear any 



20 DEPORTMENT. 

clothes or no clothes, since there are no eyes or ears 
to be offended bnt his own — 'perhaps. 

This " perhaps " is put in for the benefit of all 
who believe in the existence cf unseen intelligences, 
who are near us, to guide and comfort us ; who, 
though usually unseen, and consciously unfelt, may 
yet be often and forever near us. If we admit this 
belief, we are never alone, but always in social re- 
lations that should influence our conduct. It is 
not to be supposed that spirits have much regard 
for the observances of conventional etiquette, but it 
may well be believed that one's guardian angel may 
be shocked by anything truly unseemly and dis- 
gusting. 

And, leaving all the unseen intelligences out of 
the question, there is one who is with us always, by 
whom we wish to be respected — ourself. A man 
may be no hero to his valet de chambre, because the 
person who fills such a post may have no proper idea 
of true heroism, but every man would assuredly like 
to be a hero to himself, or at least to have his own 
respect and good opinion, which he could not do if 
he allowed himself to behave improperly in his own 
society. 

It is for this reason, that when a man behaves 
very badly, he is thought to be beside himself, or 
rather aside from himself, and quite oblivious of his 
own personality, which is a phenomenon of intoxi- 
cation, as of other insanity ; in which persons do the 
most unseemly and outrageous things, because they 
are unconscious of any recognition. 

I believe, therefore, that in the heart of a desert, 
or on an uninhabited island, a true gentleman would 
preserve all his dignity, and all his propriety and 
purity of conduct. I am sure that a true lady, in 



CONFORMITY OF MANNERS. 21 

the privacy of her own apartment, is just as much 
a lady, as sweet, and delicate, and refined, and 
every way beautiful, as in the parlor where I met 
her for a morning chat, or in the drawing-room 
where she is the cynosure of the evening party. 
Because everywhere the free being acts out his true 
nature. His life is instinctive and genuine ; and 
his training has perfected his capabilities, so that 
habit is a second nature, which he does not violate. 
The true lady or gentleman is so under all circum- 
stances ; others act a part, but they must do this, 
and if from attraction, the true is developed in 
them, and they become what they wish to be 
thought, and then aspire to be. 

A man wishes to suit his action to the company 
he is in, or to get out of it as soon as possible. If 
with noisy people, he too must make a noise, or 
suffer, or leave. He must be gay with those who 
laugh ; sad with those who weep. A certain con- 
formity of manners and life is necessary to polite- 
ness. One does not carry the style and dress of 
the Fifth avenue into a rustic country house. It 
would be very snobbish to do so. The dress and 
manner of a wedding are not suited to a funeral, 
When the king turned his tea into his saucer, con- 
trary to his own custom and all etiquette, because 
two country ladies did so, whose hospitality he was 
enjoying, he was more than a king — he was a true 
gentleman. 

This conformity depends upon the law of har- 
mony. Music is the key of social science. If I 
sing with other persons, I must sing the same tune, 
in the same pitch, or I am a nuisance. My tune 
may be better than theirs ; I may pitch it to a bet- 
ter key ; but if I have come to them, 1 must con- 



22 THE TRUE HARMONY. 

form to their expression until I can bring them to 
mine, or I must leave them. 

It is in this way that refinement may become a 
miserable affectation ; and a well bred man, in 
some social spheres, a nuisance in others. We knew 
a lady to give great offense by wearing her gloves 
at a ball. " She is so stuck up that she is afraid to 
touch our hands," they said. In such a case you 
have two things to choose between. Conform to 
your company in these trifles ; pour your tea 
into your saucer, take off your gloves, or go else- 
where. Do not mar even a low accord. Dress ac- 
cording to your work : behave according to your 
company ; but still have more regard for your own 
permanent respect, than a temporary popularity 
with some casual society. 

The true harmony is that of a man's own nature. 
When all his own faculties are in accord, like the 
strings of a well-tuned harp, he is ready for every- 
thing that can contribute to his enjoyment. Such 
a man, true, self-loyal, tuned up to the concert pitch 
of his best life, is in harmony with universal nature, 
fitted to enjoy all melodies in every scale, and un- 
moved by the vulgar discords around him. 

There is thus a higher standard of morals and 
manners than an observance of the tastes and 
wishes of those around us. There are rights rela- 
tive ; but there is also a right absolute, or an equi- 
librium and harmony of rights, which is the true 
point of dignity and manliness. In the person it is 
symmetry — in the carriage, ease — in relations, har- 
mony — in results, happiness. 



CHAPTER III. 



CARE OF THE PERSON. 




aithful to our duty we 
could not be, if we were to 
neglect the most minute 
particulars of that atten- 
tion to the person which is 
the first necessity of good 
manners, and the most val- 
uable of all accomplish- 
ments and excellences. 
There can be no health, no 
comfort, no happiness in 
oneself ; nor is it possible to 
be agreeable, or even tolera- 
ble to others, without attend- 
ing to the common decen- 
cies of life, 

No one wishes to inspire 
others with disgust. No 
one ought to be willing, 
from laziness, inattention, 
or moroseness, to produce 
an unpleasant impression on 
any of the senses of those 
about him, No . man can 
afford to cut himself off 
from human sympathy, the 
vital circulation of the so- 
cial being, without which it 
withers and dies. 

There are eccentricities 



24 



EXAGGERATED FINERY. 



of habit and manner, peculiarities of costume and 
deportment, that are harmless and even picturesque, 
though not strictly beautiful. The " Gent," the 
" Snob," the dandy of exaggerated finery, or the 
dandy of an equally affected and exaggerated 
coarseness and ugliness, we may tolerate ; but a 
positive disregard to personal decency, ranks a man 
below all ordinary savageism. 




THE ACCOMPLISHMENT OF CLEANLINESS. 25 

The care of the person is the beginning of good 
manners. Every one not only consults his own 
well being, his dignity, and enjoyment, by his care 
of himself, but he also fulfils a social duty. Every 
one should do the best he can for himself, for his 
own sake, and to avoid giving pain to, or to pro- 
mote the happiness of, others. 

We enter here upon delicate ground ; but the 
reader will see its necessity, and excuse our plain- 
ness of speech. We must run the risk of exciting 
a feeling of disgust in some readers, that we may 
give to others the instruction they need. 

The first moral and physical duty of every human 
being is to be clean. Cleanliness, the apostle says, 
is akin to godliness. We would not give much for 
the godliness of any man or woman who was not 
cleanly. Filth is a violation of the rights of several 
of the senses. We see it ; we feel it ; sometimes we 
may be cheated into tasting it ; and we smell it ter- 
ribly. In all ways, and under all conditions, it is 
vile and bad, ill-mannered and immoral. 

First of all, then, and above all, and as the prime 
condition of all excellence of charaeter and beauty 
of life, oh, be thoroughly and perfectly clean ! The 
human organism is so constituted that no person can 
be absolutely clean without washing the whole sur- 
face of the body every day. Millions of pores are 
constantly exuding waste matter from the body. 
This matter, if allowed to remain, is filth ; in any 
considerable quantity it is poison. Retained in 
the system, it is matter of disease, and is the effi- 
cient cause of typhus, and similar diseases. 

It is not enough to change the under garments 
often. Much is carried away, but much also ad- 
heres. In certain parts of the body, as under the 



26 A HINT TO THE LADIES. 

arms and on the feet, it collects rapidly, and in a 
few hours has an offensive odor. 

Cleanly persons have acute senses. I know ladies 
who can tell whether a person bathes daily the mo- 
ment he comes into the room. Many an expensively 
dressed man scents a parlor, as soon as he enters it, 
with the disgusting odor of his unwashed feet, and 
gathered perspiration. We smell it everywhere — 
at theatres and balls, in steamboat cabins and omni- 
buses ; everywhere we meet this mortifying and 
disgusting fact of personal uncleanliness. 

It is mixed with tobacco, it is mingled with per- 
fumes ; but these do not help it. The execrable 
filth is there, poisoning the atmosphere. The wise 
Swedenborg tells us that the wicked love the scent 
of their own hells. People, whose senses are blunt- 
ed by custom, are unconscious of their personal con- 
ditions, but they are always liable to meet those to 
whom their lack of the first decency of life is a vio- 
lent breach of good manners. 
; Ladies, it is a pity that one should be obliged to 
write and print so impolite a thing, but it is true 
that you are not always careful enough of the purity 
of your clothing. You may be nice in your per- 
sons ; for the honor of all womanhood I hope so, 
but I have met women of beauty, and accomplish- 
ment, who dressed with great elegance : but when 
they came near a fire in a cold day, there rose from 
them odors that were not wafted from " Araby the 
blest." Q 

The English papers call their "lower orders" the 
" great unwashed." The circulation of works on 
Water Cure has done much for the cause of cleanli- 
ness in this country ; but it is to be feared that 
there are here, as well as in Europe, vast numbers 



PERSONAL CLEANLINESS. 2T 

who merit this designation. It is very evident to 
our noses, that this is the case with thousands of 
even the well-to-do, and well-dressed crowds around 
us. This daily bath is not so formidable an affair 
as it may seem. It is well to have a bathing-room, 
with all the convenient apparatus ; but not essen- 
tial. A pint of water, if you have no more, will 
wash the whole body./ 

Washing the head promotes the growth aid 
beauty of the hair and prevents its falling out and 
becoming gray. 

"Washing the teeth and gums with cold water, 
and a hard brush, keeps the teeth white, the gums 
red and firm, and the breath sweet. 

Washing the whole skin, keeps that great organ 
in a pure and healthy condition, prevents colds, 
coughs, consumption, fevers, rheumatism, &c, and 
gives the skin a clearness, and healthfulness of 
color, superior to all cosmetics. 

There are societies, into which no man or woman 
would be admitted, who did not take an entire daily 
bath. Washing the face and hands, is a pretence 
of cleanliness, like a clean collar on a dirty shirt. 
It is that external pretension to decency, which is 
the essence of hypocrisy. 

Every sleeping room, or a dressing room adjoin- 
ing, should be furnished with soft water, towels, 
sponges, brushes, and all the conveniences of a 
cleanly toilet ; and the time is not far distant, when 
no dwelling, or hotel, will be considered complete, 
which does not afford to every inmate facilities for 
daily ablutions. 

Cleanliness and purity of person are the first 
elements of a refined character. 



28 SALUTAKY ADVICE. 

Observe ; combs, hair-brushes, nail-brushes, and 
tooth-brushes, are personal properties, never to be 
lent or borrowed. Two persons never use the same 
tooth-brush ; and there must be great intimacy to 
allow of any partnership in the other articles. To 
use the same towel, or pocket-handkerchief, like 
eating from the same dish, or drinking from the 
same glass, requires the closest personal intimacy, 
and this should never be presumed upon. 

When the person is absolutely pure, the dress 
should correspond. It is of little use to wash clean 
and then put on soiled garments. Never wear the 
same garment at night that you have worn during 
the day. If well aired at night, the same, under 
garment may be worn two days, but it is better to 
have a clean one every day. All other garments 
should be pure and sweet, so as to offend no sense, 
either your own or another's. 

The intelligent reader will excuse an allusion here 
to some points of comfort and health, which may be 
useful to some of our readers. The natural func- 
tions of the body should be performed with regu- 
larity, as this is essential to health and purity. An 
over distension of the bladder occasions pain, incon- 
venience, and often serious disease. No squeamish- 
ness, or apparent delicacy, should lead to the real 
indelicacy of neglecting a natural function. The 
diet should be so regulated, as to produce a regular 
daily evacuation of the bowels. When this is inter- 
rupted, it is best restored by injections of cold wa- 
ter. Constipation often produces sallowness and 
fetor of the skin and breath, and is always an un- 
pleasant and dangerous condition. 

Cleanliness is a condition of health : but all its 
conditions should be observed by one who aspires to 



UNFITNESS FOR SOCIETY. 29 

the highest enjoyment of life. Sickness is not favor- 
able to good manners. The sick are apt to be mo- 
rose, petulant, exacting, and disagreeable. Health 
is a condition of beauty, activity, and joy ; and 
should be carefully guarded, and assiduously sought, 
by those who have fallen into diseased conditions. 

Certain states of illness unfit a person for society. 
It is never well to intrude upon others any subject 
of pity, or disgust. A man with a toothache, or 
rheumatism, or cough, or catarrh, with sore eyes, or 
a pustular face, cannot contribute much to the hap- 
piness of those around them. 

A pure and careful diet, pure air, exercise and 
cleanliness, will go far to insure good health, the 
first condition of happiness. 



CHAPTER IV, 

DRESS. 

Love is no longer blind. His 
eyes are wide open, and ready to 
see every personal advantage. Love 
is no longer naked. He wears the 
fashionable costume of the day, 
whether that be long or short, wide 
or narrow. Apparently he is also 
getting into some bad habits, if ever 
so fashionable. Love has all his 
senses and faculties in sharp activ- 
ity ; and he not only looks well to 
neatness of person, and taste in 
personal adornment, but if not much 
belied he is getting into the prac- 
tice of poring over ledgers, searching titles, and 
inspecting balances at bankers. Certainly the ar- 
rows with golden tips seem to do wonderful execu- 
tion. If a good face is a letter of recommendation, 
a good dress is not less so. Wear a shabby hat a 
few days, and see how many of your friends will 
grow near-sighted. Wear a pair of soiled gloves 
or dirty bonnet strings, my nice lady, and see how 
backs will gradually stiffen ! A fine coat has saved 
many a rascal from a sound thrashing ; a cashmere 
shawl is the nicest wrapper for a brittle reputation! 




THE MORALS OF DRESS. 31 

As we wish to proceed in something like a natu- 
ral order : having endeavored to impress upon the 
reader the necessity of cleanliness, as the first point 
of good breeding, dress, of course, is the next thing 
to be considered. 

Dress is a mode of expression ; a manifestation of 
our own being, and is a kind of language or saluta- 
tion addressed to others. To dress suitably is then 
a part, and no small part of good manners, for a 
hundred people may see us, and be pleased or 
offended at our appearance, whom we never speak 
to or come into any other relation with. 

But is this nothing ? Have I the right to ob- 
trude upon the public attention a filthy, or ill-fitting, 
or absurd costume ? Have not the eyes rights, as 
well as the nose or ears ? If I have no right to in- 
flict a bad smell upon my neighbor by any want of 
purity in my person or habits ; if I have no right to 
assail his ears with harsh or vile language, how have 
I any more a right to afflict his eyes with an inde- 
cent or unbecoming costume ? 

Dress, then, is a moral duty — a grave question 
of right, and these "minor morals" are matters of 
some importance. Even the police understand that. 
The laws insist that every one should be dressed in 
some way, and a person who is dressed insufficiently, 
is arrested and punished. The laws even interfere 
as to the kind of dress to be worn, in some cases, be- 
yond any question of decency. Men or women, 
wearing the habiliments of the opposite sex, are 
liable to be arrested. But exceptions are made in 
favor of fancy balls, and the theatre. In a play, an 
actress may wear the dress of a gentleman ; Burton 
may dress up as Mrs. Partington, but let one of the 
audience try it I Let the danseuse try to walk home 



32 



TRYING THEM ON. 



in her stage dress, and some policeman would have 
her in custody. These laws, however, are often 
senseless and impertinent, and a clear violation of 
all right. 




TRYING THEM ON 



THE BLOOMER COSTUME. S3 

If a woman fancies that she looks better or 
feels better in men's clothes, there is no reason 
why she may not indulge in so harmless a fancy. It 
is done freely and frequently on the continent of 
Europe. The author of Consuelo, for years, wore 
a masculine dress in the streets and cafes of Paris, 
whenever she chose to do so. Miss Weber, an ex- 
cellent and highly accomplished woman, in Belgium, 
in all societies wears no other. Some American 
ladies of late have done the same, in defiance of the 
laws. We do not see that any moral or proper 
legal question is involved in this ; or, if the dress is 
neat and becoming, convenient to the wearer, and 
pleasant to others, that it is a breach of good man- 
ners. It is a simple question of good and evil. If 
the amount of happiness, immediate or ultimate, is 
increased by any costume, it is right to wear it. 

The failure of the Bloomer dress seems to have 
arisen from the mixed character it assumed, and the 
unpleasant confusion of ideas it occasioned. It 
partook of the man's, the woman's, and the child's. 
A bold assumption of a full male dress, as by Ma- 
dame Dudevant and Miss Weber, and such as is 
worn at pleasure by ladies, traveling or on excur- 
sions, anywhere on the continent of Europe, would 
have had a much better chance of tolerance and 
success. The stage had accustomed us to seeing 
women dressed as men, but not in so mixed and in- 
congruous a fashion as the Bloomer. It must, how- 
ever, be remembered that in some of our free states 
there are laws against wearing any but the custom- 
ary dress, and that a lady who takes a ^fancy to 
masculine habiliments on an excursion, may find it 
terminate in the station house. 



34 THE UNDER CLOTHING. 

As to the kind of clothing worn, we offer a few 
general suggestions. It should be clean, whole, 
well-fitting, and suited to the conditions of the 
wearer. 

An elegant taste is displayed in no more certain 
way than by the fineness and beauty of the under- 
clothing, even when it is never seen by another. I 
would like to know of any lady that she wore fine 
chemises, with ruffles or lace edging. It might 
never be my happiness to see it, but I would gladly 
know that her own taste demanded such hidden 
beauty. 

So a gentleman's shirts should be as fine as he 
can afford ; and he will do well to have at least six 
shirts to each coat ; enough at least to give him a 
clean one every day, or twice a day, if needful to 
his comfort. We shall speak of fashions elsewhere. 

While upon these delicacies, let me say a word 
of night-gowns. Always be provided with these, so 
as never to be obliged to sleep in your shirt. When 
you visit or travel, be provided ; but when you en- 
tertain company, see also that they are supplied, if 
by any accident they are deficient. This is especial- 
ly needful if a lady or gentleman, spending the day 
with you, unexpectedly stays all night. Be thought- 
ful enough to make every guest at home; and to do 
so, endeavor to supply him or her with all home 
conveniences. 

As far as possible, avoid all shams. They may 
not afflict other people, but they hurt the wearer. 
I cannot endure the moral depravity of false collars 
and false bosoms. They are Barnum — humbug — 
dishonesty. At the best they are poverty-stricken 
make-shifts. How the ladies can reconcile their 
tender consciences to chemisettes, I don't well see, 



SUITABLE TEXTURES. 35 

only that they are known by everybody to be only 
shams ; while a false bosom or collar is a miserable 
make-shirt. It covers coarseness, or carelessness, or 
filth, or all combined. 

Wear a complete, fine, well made, well fitting 
shirt, if you would feel like a gentleman, as well as 
appear like one to others ; and you, fair lady, 
though you may have no husband, or lover, or dear 
friend of any kind to see your most intimate appar- 
eling, dress so as to be able to respect and love 
and admire yourself. Dress conscientiously ; and a 
true conscience, or self-respecting consciousness, ad- 
mits no shams. 

It is suitable for the protection, cleanliness, and 
delicacy of the skin, that the whole person should 
be covered with linen or cotton. Both are vegeta- 
ble fibers ; and when the cost is equal, as it proba- 
bly will be, it will be only a choice of texture and 
sensation. Silk and wool are animal products, and 
not so well fitted for personal contact. A sensitive 
skin does not bear any wool but the softest and 
finest ; and though silk stockings are pleasant 
enough, I do not fancy a silk shirt or drawers ; but 
those made of raw silk and woven like stockings, 
are elastic, and pleasant. Ladies and gentlemen 
wear drawers, now, at all seasons ; very thin ones 
in summer, and thicker, or woolen over linen or 
cotton in winter. Ladies wear them for protection 
from dust, and to avoid accidental exposures ; while 
gentlemeu require them to protect their outer clo- 
thing from perspiration, and their skins from the 
roughness of kerseymere. Lining pantaloons is a 
bad fashion, as the lining cannot be washed. 

The external clothing should be appropriate to 
the season, and the occupation, as well as the ago, 



36 



THE DOG FANCIER. 



condition, and position of the wearer. A man en- 
gaged in labor, must wear clothing tliat will bear 
such usage as it may be subjected to, and give him 
freedom of movement. In dusty and dirty employ- 
ments, wear over-hauls, or overalls. Whoever 
attends to stables and takes a personal interest in 
horses, should have, in some room adjacent, a loose 
frock, trowsers, and boots, fit for such service, to 
protect him from any odor. For the garden, have 
stout shoes, an easy blouse, and straw hat, and neat 
pumps or slippers for the parlor or library. 

This English scene of a meeting between an 
English gentleman and a dog fancier, whom he re- 
cognizes as a former companion, illustrates the 
adaptation of dress to condition in that country. 




WJY A JINX DOG, YOPR HONOR f 



COSTUME FOR LADIES. 



3T 



So a lady, for the morning duties of the house- 
hold, should wear a loose plain frock, made high in 
the neck, with long sleeves buttoning at the wrist 
It may be ever so prettily made ; trimmed with 
braid, and so neat that she will not be obliged to 
change it for an early call ; since an early caller 
never expects to find a lady dressed, does not Wish 
to wait for dressing, and would have very little res- 
pect for a lady who should put him or herself to 
such trouble. 

The annexed sketch 
in the collection of 
Victor Adam, seems 
to us so graceful a cos- 
tume for a lady, that 
we copy it here for 
the instruction of our 
readers. The head 
dress, the waist, and 
the long full folds of 
the skirt, are all in 
exquisite harmony, 
and produce a beau- 
tiful effect. Of course 
such a skirt is not de- *£. 
signed to walk far in, |g§|j 
or off a carpet. When *; 
a lady takes a five 
miles walk, the less weight and length of skirts the 
better. We fetter women with a perfect swad of 
long clothing, and then complain because they do 
not take more exercise ! It should be the endeavor 
of every lady, so far as the demands of fashion will 
permit her, to combine ease and grace in the con- 
struction of each article of dress. 




38 



FASHIONS OF DRESS. 





In the fashions of dress for both sexes, we have 
the most sudden and 
extraordinary chang- 
es ; in trousers, from 
meal bags to candle 
moulds ; in hats from 
bell-crowned to stee- 
ple ; in boots, from 
pointed to square- 
toed ; and in coats, 
we are constantly un- 
dergoing transforma- 
tions, tight and loose 
sleeves, large and 
small collars, short , 
and long waists, and 
finally the tail, so short one year as scarcely to reach 
the thighs, next season jumps down to the calves of 
the legs, and the follow- 
ing year may drag after 
the wearer to an inter- 
minable distance. 

The ladies' fashions are 
equally changeable. At 
times the dear ones muf- 
fle to their chins ; anon 
they seem to be coming 
entirely out of their ap- 
parel. Bonnets like um- 
brellas ; then a mere lit- 
tle wad of ribbons and 
roses. Sleeves like bal- 
loons ; then the arms 
naked to the shoulders. 
Waists under the armpits, and then down to the hips. 




THE DRESS OF THE FEET. 39 

If you live in the country, or keep up old fashions, 
and dine at midday, your dinner answers to the 
fashionable lunch, and there is no dressing. If you 
have adopted so much of the manners of fashionable 
life as to dine at four, five, or six o'clock; you of 
course will have finished the labors and duties of the 
day ; and dinner will be a little family festival for 
which you will dress, making yourselves as elegant 
and agreeable as possible. 

Be very expressly particular about the dress of 
the feet. Men should wear fine, well-fitting socks 
or stockings, which should be warm and thick in 
winter ; and ladies' stockings should always' be long, 
fine, perfectly clean, and carefully put on. True, 
the dresses of the mode are very long. They are 
said to be graceful. They make a short woman 
look taller than she otherwise would : they also 
generally conceal large feet and ancles : but not 
always, and twenty times a day, a. lady may have 
occasion to be very sure that her stockings are fine, 
clean, and well-fitting. In mounting or descending 
a staircase ; in getting in or out of a carriage ; in 
crossing a muddy street, or for any reason or no 
reason at all, we see feet and ancles, and even legs, 
particularly if they are pretty and well-dressed, and 
belong to well-bred ladies. 

And why not ? To conceal a misshapen foot, a 
thick ancle, or a thin or badly formed leg, may be 
an act of modesty and virtue ; but surely, there can 
be no harm in seeing beautiful, nicely dressed limbs, 
of either sex, whether in the living form, or a pic- 
ture, or statue. And it is a strange caprice of 
modesty that scrupulously covers the legs in folds of 
drapery, and leaves the arms bare to the shoulder, 
and perhaps exposes as much of the neck and bosom 



40 



EFFECT OF FASHION. 



as at another phase of fashion, would make one 
blush at the bare idea. These curious changes 
show that modesty is in the mind, and that the 
whitest purity of thought and feeling is not incon- 
sistent with perfect nudity, either in nature or art 

The effect of fashion 
on costume can be 
scarcely better exem- 
plified than in the an- 
nexed sketch of the 
Parisian dandy of 
few years ago, when the 
full trousers, the short 
coat, and the rakish 
hat were in all their 
glory. This figure, 
which a few changes 
of fashion has made 
grotesque, was once the 
height of the mode. 

A gentleman who 
wishes to be well-dress- 
ed, will be 
choice of his 
boot maker. 
Many have 
lasts of their 
own, to make 
sure of a good 
fit, and avoid ~ 
the torture of ^^Jf'^r^^ 
corns. Patent fe^S^ 
leather, if it 
cost a little more at first, is probably the cheapest 
wear. When a gentleman walks out with a hand- 
some hat, gloves, and full length boots, he is in 




TROUSERS AND WAISTCOATS. 41 

a fair way to be well dressed. And these affect the 
style and appearance more than coats and trousers. 
The pantaloons come next, and the fit of these is a 
matter of great importance. 

Trousers, or pantaloons, have displaced breeches 
and stockings. Utility triumphs over beauty, where 
utilities are most needful. Besides, good legs are 
not so plentiful as they should be. When there is 
more health, a finer development, and more beauty 
of form, we can return to the display and enjoyment 
of natural beauties. In the mean time we make 
the best of the circus and the ballet, two schools, in 
which the limbs get trained into, and sometimes a 
little beyond their true outlines. 

The trousers, whether the fashion be large or 
small, must fit well, or they spoil the harmony of 
the figure. A slouching, baggy pair of trousers, 
coming up two or three inches above the feet, and 
hanging heavily from the suspenders, making the 
hips look bunchy, is very unbecoming. 

The waistcoat is capable of a great variety of 
effects and expressions, With very dark, or black 
pantaloons, and coat ; with a fine shirt, and neatly 
tied cravat, and well fitting patent leather, or well 
polished boots ; with the hair and beard character- 
istic and comme il faut, with the gloves as pure, and 
neat, and well fitting as a Brummell could desire, 
with a superb hat, and a faultless cane ; all may be 
vulgarized, and spoiled into utter snobbery, by a vest. 

The waistcoat may be quiet or garish ; meek or 
haughty ; modest or presuming ; elegant or slovenly. 

You wear a blouse or easy frock in the garden, 
or at any out-door employment ; in the house you 
put on your dressing-gown, which may be as elegant 
and sumptuous as you choose, with a velvet and 



42 FROCK COAT AND DRESS COAT. 

embroidered cap — a smoking cap, they call it, but 
it is not absolutely necessary to smoke when you 
wear it ; and a pair of easy, handsome, and, if yoa 
choose, ornamental slippers. 

But when you go to store or office, or attend to 
out-door business, you will be expected to don a 
coat, and here also you have some range of choice. 

There is the sack coat, which combines the ease 
of a blouse with sufficient formality of dress for 
ordinary uses ; there is the frock coat, the most 
elegant of all gentlemanly habits, which is suited to 
the street, the morning call, and, from its obvious 
excellences, is now tolerated at the dinner party, 
the soiree, and even at the ball ; and for the more 
formal occasions, when a man wishes to be in un- 
mistakeable full dress, there is the dress coat, which, 
after all that has been said in its condemnation, is, 
when well made, well fitted, and well worn, the 
most elegant article of modern costume, and the 
expression of the highest civilization. It reveals 
and displays the form more than any other, without 
obtrusiveness or superfluity. It does not display 
itself so much as it exhibits the wearer. 

The hair, beard, and nails belong both to person 
and dress, and they constitute important portions. 
A certain conformity to fashion is necessary to com- 
fort. In China, everybody shaves the head, all but 
the single tuft that is plaited into the tail. In 
Austria, the mode of wearing the hair and beard is 
a police regulation, because beards took on a politi- 
cal significance. Ten years ago, a full beard in 
New York was stared and sneered at. It was a 
mark of either the most ultra radicalism, or the 
most pretentious exclusiveism — and these extremes 
meet with the wearing of hair and beard. 



STYLE OF WEARING THE HAIR. 



43 



Of the hair, choose the style that suits you best 
within the limits of a wise conformity to usage, and 
so as not to be quite out of harmony with the 
social body, of which you are some sort of a mem- 
ber. Consult your glass, or trust your barber. 
Comb and brush carefully, but give your locks 
something of the freedom of nature. When the 
hair dresser has done his prettiest, passing your 
fingers through it will be a decided improvement. 
You are not a barber's block. Avoid alike the 
sleekness and constraint of too evident care, and 
the rudeness of utter inattention. The following is 
picturesque and artistic ; still we do not very ur- 
gently commend it. 




LOST IN ADMUUTION 



44 BEAUTY OF THE BEARD. 

Where it can be done without social discomfort, 
and that now is almost everywhere, the full beard 
is most natural, most comfortable, most healthful, 
most expressive, dignified and beautiful. Some 
may doubt this, but they must make allowance for 
the perversion of fashion and habit. Nature gave 
man a beard for use and beauty ; and marked the 
softer graces, and more exquisite delicacies of wo- 
man, by the want of it. Shaving the face, then, 
renders it effeminate. Seeing everywhere smooth 
faces must contribute to effeminacy of character. 
In manly ideals we claim the beard. Who would 
think of a close-shaven Jupiter, or Hercules, or 
Jesus ? The gods and heroes wear beards. Indi- 
vidual taste and fashion must regulate much of the 
external decorums ; but if I shaved at all, it should 
be entirely. Either a full beard or a smooth face. 
The moustache, or imperial, or whiskers, on a face 
shaven elsewhere, gives an unpleasant artificiality of 
appearance. Nature might have denied the beard 
entirely, in any case, but she does not scatter it in 
these patches. There is no doubt that the beard is 
a great protection to the teeth and throat under 
the rough exposures to which the sterner sex are 
liable. 

As to the hat ; I shall not add to the discussions 
on its ugliness or unfitness for its uses. It is hard, 
unpicturesque, and inconvenient in many respects ; 
yet, with fashion and custom, we manage to endure 
it. Caps have been permitted for a long period ; 
they are worn by the officers of the army and navy ; 
many things have conspired to bring them into 
vogue — but still they are little worn. You see, in 
a well dressed assemblage, twenty hats to one cap. 
The hat, formal and angular as it is, harmonizes 



COSTUME. 45 

with our modern costume, which the cap does not. 
The cap is well fitted to the military undress ; it is 
adapted to hunting and riding ; but when a man 
gets on his fashionable boots, his well-fitting ker- 
seymere pantaloons, his frock coat of faultless fit, 
his well-tied cravat, he surmounts them all with a 
well-made, well-brushed, moleskin or beaver. 

But in hats, as in all other costumes, there is a 
toleration and use of a much greater variety, than 
a few years ago. You may wear a high crown or 
low crown — a wide or narrow brim — a stiff or flexi- 
ble material — a sharp or rounded outline. Kossuth 
doubtless gave us some ideas of political freedom ; 
but the freedom of costume which he introduced is 
more apparent. 




46 THE ELEGANCIES OF GLOVES. 

A gentleman never feels himself dressed, any 
more than a lady, without gloves. We are quite 
aware of the proverb, "A cat in gloves catches no 
mice." It is a good proverb for cats. But ladies 
and gentlemen have no occasion to catch mice, nor, 
we trust, to use their claws in any way — particu- 
larly when abroad or in company. 

Choose good, well made gloves. Silk ones, if 
very fine and costly, may do, especially for ladies, 
and if you have no great care for being irreproach- 
ably fashionable ; otherwise, none but the very best 
made and best fitting kid gloves will answer. They 
are worn in the street, at church, at the theater, 
concerts, balls, and at all large and formal evening 
parties. Dark gloves in the morning, in a walking 
dress ; lighter gloves for half toilette ; white gloves, 
and of absolute purity and newness, for all full dress 
occasions. In small and informal companies, gloves 
may be dispensed with ; and you will do well not to 
wear them obtrusively where it is not the custom. 

Of the niceties of a lady's costume, and of the 
dress of particular occasions, we shall have some- 
thing to say in another place. The best dress is 
that which subserves the ends of purity, health, 
comfort and beauty ; and, properly considered, 
these are harmonious qualities. No person of true 
taste can like a costume that violates either of these 
conditions. 

When a lady walks a dusty street, sweeping the 
pavement, with an amplitude of unmanageable 
skirts, and evidently collecting upon her under- 
skirts and the lower part of her person the dust or 
mud of the thoroughfare, every one sees that it is 
an improper walking dress, however suitable to the 
parlor or the carriage. 



MODELS OF BEAUTY. . 47 

The morning dress should be; light, soft, and 
pleasant to the sight and touch. The full dress ele- 
gant, and as rich as circumstances admit, with colors 
and style well chosen, and adapted to the form, age, 
complexion, and condition. So of the hair. Fash- 
ion, taste, and adaptation must be consulted. 

When a man who knows what the female form 
should be, sees a woman laced into the form of a 
wasp, with the region of the lower part of the lungs, 
the heart, the liver, the spleen, the stomach, and 
the diaphragm so compressed that these vital or- 
gans must be displaced or paralyzed, he cannot help 
being shocked at such a deformity. He calls to his 
mind the chef d' <mvres of painting and statuary, the 
glorious models of ancient and modern art, the Ve- 
nus, the Hebe, the Greek Slave : and he compares 
with them such a statue as fashion would model, with 
the feet cramped, the hips distended, the waist com- 
pressed with corsets, the bosom displaced ; and the 
beauty and symmetry of nature converted into a de- 
formity of fashion — and not a high fashion ; for 
over the highest and purest sphere of fashionable 
life reigns an artistic taste, which, though it may 
sometimes indulge in caprices, does not violate prin- 
ciples. 

The best general advice I can give is to wear 
well fitting shoes and have no corns ; to wear a well 
fitting dress, and not deprive the lungs of one ounce 
of air that belongs to them, nor interfere with the 
action of any organ. Leave the movements of the 
body as free as those of an athlete. Do not over- 
load or distort the hips, so as to produce deformity, 
and disease. Let the bosom have its natural place 
and development. If nature has not bestowed the 
riper graces of the budding form, let art supply the 



48 



WORK FOR LADIES. 



deficiency with caution and moderation ; and with 
some light pervious material that will not hurt the 
glands, injuriously affecting their proper function, 
nor produce weakness of the lungs. 

If you have taste, and a moderate degree of 
skill, you may easily make every article of dress 
you wear, from bonnet to boots, except that it may 
be convenient to have the shoemaker put the soles 
to the latter. But all the rest you can make by a 
little careful study and practice. And what an in- 
dependence, to say nothing of economy I 




WORK FOR LADIES. 



CHAPTER V. 



HABITS AND MANNERS. 




EAUTY is the result 
of an assemblage . of 
qualities, of which 
all are important, if 
not quite necessary 
to the whole effect. 
Form is not enough, 
nor color. There 
must be in the high 
beauty of a perfect- 
ed humanity, the 
grace - and harmony of form and movement ; the 
expression of both the external and 
the internal life. The lower animal 
races, the birds, and beasts, and in- 
sects, seem perfect in adaptation, and 
in their peculiar forms, by nature and 
instinct. Man is a creature of art, 
and seems to require for his perfection 
all the refining improvements of an 
advanced civilization. Nature, it is 
true, has clone much for him, and in 
an Eden or savage condition he might 
be content; but the man and woman 
of society are indebted more to art 
and fashion than to nature for their 
discouraging, charms and graces. 




50 LOOKS AND BEHAVIOR. 

A person who is very handsome, very naturally 
neat in person, and well dressed, may yet be ex- 
tremely awkward and disagreeable. The proverb, 
" Looks are nothing — behavior is all," contains, like 
most proverbs, both truth and falsehood. Looks 
are much. It is hard to make up for a crooked leg, 
a skinny arm, a scraggy neck, a low forehead, cross 
eyes, and a snub nose. Good looks are very desi- 
rable ; but it is true that far more depends upon 
behavior. The neatness of the person, upon which 
we have so strongly insisted, is a part of behavior ; 
so is dress, which is a mode of expression ; and 
which gives us methods of enhancing and displaying 
beauties, as well as of concealing defects. 

But a handsome and well dressed person may be 
awkward and constrained in manner, stiff or slouch- 
ing in gait ; angular and extravagant in gesture ; 
sullen, haughty, insolent, cold, rude ; or shy, distant, 
sheepish ; or craven, fawning, and familiar. There 
are a hundred graces and excellencies of manner, in 
the position of the body, the attitudes, movements, 
gestures, poses of the head, carriage of the arms, 
placing of the feet, and all those nameless proprie- 
ties and charms, which are in some the unconscious 
and spontaneous expression of their natures ; and in 
others, are more or less acquired by the faculty of 
imitation, by careful training and culture. If all 
persons were alike graceful, and had those' innate 
ideas of refinement and elegance of manners, which, 
like high genius in poetry or music, are the gifts of 
the few, there would be little need of such a treatise 
as this professes to be. 

But nature has been content with setting us a 
few copies of rare excellence, and leaving the great 
mass of men and women to form themselves, by 



HINTS TO THE BEAUTIFUL. 51 

their own exertions. Is it not well ? The person 
born a genius, or a beauty, or a being of attractive 
graces, may exult in such good fortune, and enjoy 
it happily ; but there is also a pride of resolute and 
successful effort, and the conquest of nature, and 
triumph over difficulties. 

Demosthenes was the stronger man, and the bet- 
ter orator, for every defect he conquered. Every 
man triumphs in his success, in proportion to its 
difficulty. It is well that humanity should now and 
then be developed into spontaneous excellences ; 
but better that we should owe almost everything to 
culture and effort. 

You are beautiful, perhaps ; be careful that you 
do not spoil the charm of that beauty by insolence, 
vanity, or vulgarity of manner. And this beauty 
is not your own exclusive property. It belongs to 
others more than to yourself, just in proportion as 
others can better observe it. Nature has mirrors in 
her still fountains, but they are not favorable to 
observation. Art, however, has given us mirrors 
which are better. But it needs no argument to 
prove that beauty was not intended alone nor 
chiefly to give happiness to its possessor ; and that, 
consequently, society has pre-eminent rights in re- 
gard to it. The possession of beauty, then, brings 
with it a heavy responsibility. You have no right 
to conceal, mar, or spoil it. You have no right to 
lose it, by neglect of health, or any habit which 
tends to the destruction of beauty. You have no 
right to hide it in ugly and deforming costumes. 
You have no right to mar it by any lack of grace 
and propriety of manners. 

Beauty is a gift to the world, and not to be 
absorbed or monopolized for individual benefit. 



52 USES OF DRESS. 

The man who should shut up a magnificent piece of 
architecture, or a fine garden, or even a beautiful 
statue or picture, from the observation of those 
who were qualified by taste and culture to enjoy 
their beauties, would be guilty of a great meanness; 
yet he has a better right to sequester any of these 
than any one can have to hide the beauties which 
are the gift of nature. It is for this reason that 
the veilings and wrappings of the women of Turkey, 
and of most of the East, seem so ungracious ; it is 
for this reason that all bundlings and concealments 
of the figure, veils, &c, are disagreeable. It is for 
this reason that dress should rather display and 
adorn the person, than conceal it ; that it should 
display every beauty and conceal every defect, and 
that every artist finds that drapery most beautiful 
which least mars and most reveals the best points 
of the human figure. 

High art asserts that in the most perfect develop- 
ment of the human figure, male and female, no dra- 
pery at all is requisite. The most perfect statues of 
both sexes are undraped. And clothing as an 
ornament, and in its artistic and esthetic effects, is 
required just in proportion as the form degenerates 
from the perfection of the ideal standard. 

But if the most perfect and most advantageous 
display of beauty may be a social duty, the culture 
which improves it and supplies its lack can be no 
less a duty. As the most beautiful person may be- 
come repulsive by defects and improprieties of man- 
ner, so one gifted with few natural advantages, may 
be elegant and attractive in a high degree by the 
charms of a good behavior. 

Attitude, the simple pose of the body, is worthy 
of profound study. All other things being alike, 



GRACE OF ATTITUDE. 53 

you shall be able to distinguish a gentleman as far 
off as you can see him, by the position in which he 
stands. That position may reveal his whole charac- 
ter. You can tell whether he is selfish or generous, 
sullen or gay. You may very surely tell whether 
he is a tasteful and elegant person, or the reverse. 
The polished man of the world, standing on the 
corner of the street, waiting for a friend or an omni- 
bus, has an entirely different look from the rowdy, 
dressed up for Sunday, though they may, by possi- 
bility, have the same tailor. 

Once, at the old Park Theater, we saw a full 
house, from pit to gallery, burst into three rounds 
of plaudits at the simple silent act of a peasant 
girl sitting down in a chair. It was nothing else. 
It had nothing to do with the plot of the piece. It 
was simply and only sitting down. But what grace, 
and beauty, and exquisite delicacy was revealed in 
every movement, and the quiet, easy attitude into 
which she sank, a living picture that charmed every 
beholder. It was a case in which much natural 
elegance had been improved and perfected by the 
most careful training ; for the Peasant Girl was 
Fanny Ellsler. 

The first polite accomplishment is to know how 
to stand. An awkward person is in a perpetual 
fidget, and changes incessantly from one uneasy 
posture to another. He knows not where to put 
his feet, and his hands are more utterly superfluous. 
There they go — now behind him, now into his pock- 
ets — now under his coat tails ; and so he fidgets 
and shifts his weight from one leg to the other, and 
becomes all the more awkward from the conscious- 
ness of his awkwardness. If he could possibly for- 
get himself, and let his limbs take care of them- 
selves, it would be better. 



54 



GRACE OF ATTITUDE. 



A drill sergeant wonld train you, rather stiffly, 
into the bearing of a soldier ; the dancing master, 
rather limberly, into the manners of a petit maitrt. 
The trne bearing of a gentleman lies between these 
extremes. You find it in the unconscious statues 
of the old Greeks. We can present it to the eye 
in forms, far better than words, in the classic pose 
of Phidias, who with manly dignity, is evidently 
thinking wholly of his work, while the gentleman who 
very properly turns his back upon the Greek sculp- 
tor, is thinking entirely of himself and of the impres- 
sion he is making on all observers. 




GRACE OF ATTITUDE. 55 

But a gentleman or lady of true polish and self- 
possession, stands quietly on both, legs, a little more 
to one side than the other, and the head also is 
slightly inclined. They stand straight, without 
straining ; the toes are turned easily, not constrain- 
edly, outward, and the arms hang at ease from the 
shoulders, as if they were no trouble to their owner, 
or assume some quiet, easy position, which requires 
no trouble. There is no straining at any point, no 
uneasy shifting or fidgeting, no moving of the fin- 
gers, or features, no sharp angles, but all is easy, 
rounded, simple, and graceful as a statue. 

And when a gentleman or lady sits down, it is a 
quiet and gentle subsidence of the form into a still 
more easy position, which is done without one awk- 
ward motion. The limbs bend easily under the 
form, as if gradually yielding to its weight, they 
take the most graceful positions ; and without stiff- 
ness, or lolling, or any awkwardness, you have a 
picture, less exquisite than the Peasant Girl of the 
great artiste, but still a picture which it is a pleas- 
ure to contemplate. 

It is worth a month's careful study for any awk- 
ward person to learn these two points of good be- 
havior — to stand and sit well. Whenever you are 
introduced to a stranger, you stand ; and the first 
impression you make, depends upon how you stand. 
Every one wishes to stand well in the good opinion 
of society — to be a person of good standing ; which 
an awkward person never can be. 

To walk well is more easy — but it is no trifle to 
know how to walk. We walk with our brains first — ■ 
then with whole systems of nerves, and then with 
the combined and more or less harmonized action 
of some three hundred muscles, which act upon the 



56 HOW THEY MAKE SOLDIERS. 

bony skeleton. In walking there is vigor, spring, 
elasticity, energy, dignity, grace, elegance, or the 
opposite of these qualities. The walk tells the 
whole story of our life, and character, and education. 
These affect the gait or carriage of the body in 
walking — and the walk also affects these character- 
istics ; for every fiber of the body, and every faculty 
of the mind, is susceptible of the culture and train 
ing of education. 

Therefore, by careful attention to your style of 
walking, you may change, to a certain degree, your 
whole character ; and the drill sergeant and danc- 
ing master exercise a deeper influence than has 
commonly been recognized. 

The drill sergeant takes a raw recruit, a booby, 
a clodhopper, a loafer, a graceless vagabond. He 
straightens him up, turns out his toes, brings back 
his shoulders, throws out his chest, and in a few 
months makes a soldier of him — a straight, well set, 
firm, alert, active man — a self-reliant, courageous 
soldier. And he is a different man forever after. 
His character has changed with his bearing. Much 
of the ignoble, and awkward in his nature, which 
found habitual expression in his mien, has been sup- 
pressed, driven back, or rooted out like weeds ; 
while the finer and more manly characteristics are 
brought into activity, and strengthened by exercise, 
and rendered habitual ; and this man, to the last 
day of his life, shows something of the manner and 
bearing, and exhibits correspondingly the character 
of a soldier. 

And the dancing master, or teacher of gymnas- 
tics and the graces of posture and movement, per- 
forms a similar but more refined office. It is his 
business to bring out, develop, cultivate, and render 



PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION. 57 

habitual, the dignities and graces of polished life. 
He teaches the pupil how he should carry his head, 
strengthen his limbs, stand, sit, bow, walk, or dance, 
if dancing is the fashion of the time. He trains 
him into the external expression of a pure and re- 
fined, and elegant character ; and, as in the case 
of the soldier, the external acts upon the internal, 
and a man becomes really what he endeavors to 
appear. 

We dwell upon and illustrate this point, because 
it is important, and contains the whole theory and 
philosophy of education, individual development, 
and social culture. Every human being has great 
and varied capabilities. From circumstances of 
birth, breeding, and peculiar influences, some lie 
dormant — some are brought into unnatural activity. 
But the greatest faults are deficiencies. What is 
to hinder the development of noble and beautiful 
qualities in every being, by the requisite means ; 
and what means can be better than to give the de- 
mand of their action, by training in the external 
expression ? If you doubt, try it upon yourself. 
See how the air and manner of calmness will induce 
the feeling ; see how every faculty may be excited 
to activity by assuming its expression. 

Manners are the outward expression of the inter- 
nal character. Our object is to purify and refine 
the character of every one. We begin with what 
is sensible to our observation — what we can see, 
hear, &c. Thus we would have an internal purity and 
delicacy ; and we demand cleanliness of the person, 
dress, and habits, and call these faculties which lie 
dormant into activity. We would have beauty and 
grace of thought and imagination ; and as one of 
the best means of inducing them, we cultivate taste 



58 THE ART OF WALKING. 

and elegance in dress, adornment, occupations, and 
manners. 

To walk well, one must walk morally, or phreno- 
logically, or harmoniously ; not with the stiff and 
bolt uprightness of exaggerated firmness, or the 
settled pride of a fanatical consciousness ; not with 
the peacock strut of over-weening self-esteem ; not 
with the side-way conceit of a morbid approbative- 
ness ; not with the bullying bravado of a swagger- 
ing combativeness ; nor the timid irresolution of 
exaggerated caution ; nor the moody gait of mis- 
timed thoughtfulness. But walk in the expression 
of the full harmony of all the faculties ; firm, hon- 
est, self-reliant, regardful of others, with courage 
and circumspection ; with something of the grace 
and finish of ideality, and enough of the prudence 
of a man of the world. Harmony of being makes 
harmony of expression ; the undeveloped and dis- 
cordant are crude and awkward in their manners. 




CHAPTER VI. 



THINGS YOU MUST AVOID. 




et us look a little at the nega- 
tive side of this subject, and see 
what we have to do in order to 
fulfill the first section of the 
great rule of progress — to " cease 
to do evil." There are certain 
things you must avoid. 

" What is this must?" you ask, 
" and who imposes it ? Who 
made thee a judge or a ruler 
over me ? Am I not free ?" 
You are — and you are not. You are free to do 
wrong and suffer the consequences. You can vio- 
late the laws of nature, and taste, and all decency, 
and suffer the penalty. You are free to throw 
yourself into the fire, and burn ; into the water, 
and drown ; into filthy habits, and disgust every 
body about you ; into blackguardism, and become 
a social outlaw, a moral- leper, whom society will 
banish. All this you are free to be, to do, and to 
suffer ; but I am supposing that you wish to obey 
the social and natural laws, and avoid the penalty 
which will be the inevitable result and necessity of 
your disobedience.- 



60 NEGATIVE RULES OF CONDUCT. 

All things in our lives, conditions, and actions, 
are referable either to ourselves, and our own indi- 
vidual rights, or to our relations to others. We 
are to enjoy our own being and rights ; and we are 
also to scrupulously regard the rights of others. 
Every improper act is either an injury to ourselves, 
or to some others ; and that which injures us direct- 
ly, is remotely an injury to all beings ; and an in- 
justice done by us to any other being, is at the same 
time an injury to ourselves. 

A musician, alone, playing out of tune, injures his 
own sense of harmony : playing out of tune, wiih 
others, he destroys the concord necessary to enjoy- 
ment. The man who does an uncouth action 
alone, offends his own taste ; in the sight of others, 
he trespasses upon their rights and injures himself 
in their estimation. And esteem is power, wealth, 
and the means of enjoyment. The bad-mannered 
man builds a wall about himself, fencing out the 
happiness that might come to him from others, and 
obstructing his own prospects of enjoyment. 

When we lay down negative rules of conduct, it 
must not be supposed they are the dicta of an arbi- 
trary fashion. This is very seldom the case ; they 
are generally founded in good sense, and upon the 
principles of justice. As far as our limits will ad- 
mit, we shall give reasons for each prohibition. 

Never go into any company in a state of personal 
uncleanliness. We have no right to offend the 
sight or smell of another. * 

Never, unless circumstances demand and excuse 
it, go into company in an uncouth, or disorderly, or 
unbecoming costume ; and in this respect, it may 
be well to regard what are the mere prejudices of 
custom. A gentleman will not wear his hat in a 



SAVAGEISMS OF CIVILIZATION, 61 

parlor, or at table, even in an eating-house, nor eat 
in his shirt sleeves. 

Carefully avoid performing certain necessities of 
the toilet in company. I have known a man, who 
thought very well of his agreeable qualities, to go 
into a lady's room, and while conversing with her, 
deliberately take off his shoes and stockings, and 
begin to cut his toe nails ! Scraping and cleaning 
the finger nails is bad enough ; but digging out the 
ears, putting the fingers in the nostrils or to the 
nose, picking the teeth, scratching the head, or any 
part of the person, are acts that require the strict- 
est privacy. By all means, avoid the habit of any 
such unmannerliness ; and resolutely break such a 
habit, if you have been so unfortunate as to con- 
tract it. 

No lady is ever seen to spit. A gentleman should 
avoid it, as far as possible. The saliva was in- 
tended to be swallowed. The mucus is the result 
of a diseased action, and should never be obtruded 
upon the sight of another. It is an excrement of 
the body, and should be disposed of as privately 
and carefully as any other. For a slight necessity 
of this kind, use the pocket handherchief, but care- 
fully, and so as not to be noticed ; but for any 
urgent demand leave the room. You have no right 
to hawk and spit in company ; and I would have no 
right even to mention such a thing, were it not for 
its too evident and sad necessity. 

The use of tobacco has made us a nation of spit- 
ters, and no delicate minded person can pass along 
the streets, enter into a public conveyance, stop at 
a hotel, or even go to church without being brought 
into contact with this nuisance of expectoration. 
The " gentlemen's cabin" of a ferry boat is a place 



ba RESULTS OF TOBACCO. 

no gentleman can look at without nausea ; and the 
ladies' cabins require the constant activity of a ser- 
vant with a mop and pail, to keep them in a state 
of decency. 

Pardon ! but it must be done. We have seen, 
on a Lake Champlain steamboat, at the height of 
the fashionable season, a stout sailor employed, hour 
after hour, following "dashily" dressed persons 
around the deck with a swab, wiping up nuisances 
a steamboat captain could not tolerate. What a 
use to put an " an able seaman" to ; and what ter- 
rific blackguards in broadcloth, to require such at- 
tentions ! 

We will not trespass further upon the sensibili- 
ties of every decent person, or our own ; but simply 
say, once for all, that no gentleman ever allows any 
person to see him spit, where it is possible to avoid 
it, and never inflicts upon any observer the disgust 
of coming in sight, or other contact with that ex- 
cretion. * 

The use of tobacco is accompanied with so many 
disgusts, that it is very difficult to reconcile it with 
the manners and habits of a gentleman or lady, and 
this ladylikeness may be the true test of propriety. 
Would any one have a lady chew tobacco ? Would 
any man like to kiss a lady with a quid in her cheek, 
and her lips running over with the poisoned and 
poisoning saliva ? Would any one like to see a 
lady — a creature of beauty, and charm, and fra« 
grance, and love — squirting tobacco juice and her 
own saliva about the room or over the sidewalk ? 

True, ladies, usually elderly ones, and not the 
most delicate, perhaps, have taken snuff, spoiled 
their noses, destroyed the sense of smell, grimed 
their upper lips and nostrils, and rendered indispcn- 



SHOULD LADIES SMOKE? 63 

sable the constant use of terrible-looking pocket 
handkerchiefs, besides spoiling their voices, and run- 
ning the risk of powdering their culinary prepara- 
tions with rappee and macaboy. 

True, ladies have smoked, and do smoke, here a 
little, more in France, and still more in Spain and 
Spanish countries. In Mexico and Central Amer- 
ica, where everybody smokes that eats, a lady 
lights your cigar, taking a few whifs with her own 
mouth, and then passes it to you, and it is an insult 
and barbarity to refuse it. In Germany, smoke is 
everywhere ; and in such countries, if you go to 
public places, or mingle in society at all, the use of 
tobacco to this extent becomes a kind of social 
necessity. 

But it is not so here. There is a strong and in- 
creasing public sentiment against the use of tobacco 
both on the ground of health and decency. There 
is, and must be, a protest against the filthy abomi- 
nations of its coarser uses. 

Tobacco gives a stench to the breath, a harsh, 
bad odor to the hair and clothing, and, finally, it 
permeates and saturates the whole body, making 
the person who uses it a walking tobacco shop, and 
a sickening nuisance to those who are free from its 
contamination. Often have we seen a lady com- 
pelled to lower a window, and even to leave a room, 
when a habitual tobacco user has entered it. 

We are not disposed to interfere in any arbitrary 
way with individual rights. We would not pass 
any law against the use of tobacco, arsenic, opium, 
or alcohol, so long as the consequences were con- 
fined to the persons using them. Law is for the 
protection of rights, and not to remedy personal 
evils. Law cannot prescribe how often I shall 



64 THE HIGHER LAW OF 'MANNERS. 

change my shirt, or how much or what I shall eat. 
It cannot rightfully interfere in any personal matter. 
I may keep a pet skunk ; but I have no right to 
carry him about among my neighbors ; and if I 
make a nuisance of myself in any way, I may have 
the individual right to do so ; but the law, or cus- 
tom, or public opinion, however enforced, may pre- 
vent my being a nuisance to others. 

Whatever is to be said, then, upon this delicate 
matter of tobacco using, applies to every offensive 
and disgusting habit. It is that one has no right 
to inflict a disgust upon another. In strong cases 
it is a crime ; in lighter ones, a misdemeanor ; in 
trifles, we call it ill manners. But some are sent to 
State prison for less offenses than cause others only 
to be sent to Coventry. 

The rule is, do nothing affecting the senses of 
others, which can offend a pure and natural taste. 
This is the "higher law" of manners. The lower 
law is, do nothing which offends the general and 
recognized sense of propriety. In K"ew York, a 
gentleman will not go into the society of ladies 
with so much as the scent of tobacco or brandy 
upon his garments. In Spanish America, the 
same etiquette, or regard for the tastes, feelings, 
and habits of others, may induce him to take a 
cigar from the lips of his hostess, and to dance fan- 
dangoes in a cloud of smoke ; but we trust our 
readers will escape such martyrdom. 

A portion of the public sentiment, and in sec- 
tions a majority, attempts to stop all drinking of 
intoxicating beverages by force of law. It is the 
office of law to protect every member of society 
from direct or voluntary injury from any other. If 
the only way to protect sober men, women, and 



TEMPERANCE. ©O 

children from the injurious consequences of drunk- 
enness, is the entire prohibition of the sale of all 
intoxicants, of all kinds and in all quantities, there 
may be the warrant of necessity for such a law. 
But there is much doubt whether it can be generally 
enforced. ~No Maine law will prevent the rich from 
keeping their stocks of wines in their own cellars, 
and supplying them liberally to their guests at din- 
ner parties and ball suppers. 

We need not advise in respect to common tip- 
pling, and such vulgarities as brandy smashers and 
gin cocktails ; a decent regard for health and purity 
will keep all gentlemen, and assuredly all ladies, out 
of such potations. But in the hilarity of a joyous 
festival, with rich and sparkling wines, where intox- 
ication comes surrounded with every refinement of 
luxury, there is a sad temptation, which many have 
not the power to resist. "When the wine is in the 
wit is out." If there be "truth in wine," there is 
also silliness, or brutality, and a kind of truth that 
had best be concealed from public observation. If 
wine brings out the best points of some persons, it 
also reveals the worst in others. There is always 
danger of the habit, which has wrecked and de- 
stroyed millions. If you have any doubt of your 
entire self-control, and most perfect power over 
your present and future, pledge yourself to your- 
self, if not to others, to total abstinence. 

Purity of person, dress, and habits, are the re- 
quisites of negative good manners. It is much not 
to offend. It is much to be in a condition to be 
tolerated, and not disagreeable. To interest, to 
please, to delight, to charm, to inspire with respect, 
friendship, devotion, and love, is more. We are 
now upon the first branch of the subject. "Ceaso 
5 



66 REFINEMENT IN EATING. 

to do evil." It will then be time to "learn to do 
well" — to acquire those positive graces and excel- 
lences of person and manner that will make you 
universally respected, admired and beloved, as every 
well constituted individual would wish to be. 

We come here to a matter of great importance, 
and of no little delicacy, for in teaching our readers 
the duty of not offending others, and paying a cer- 
tain respect to even the false prejudices and un- 
•natural tastes of others, we must do the same, and 
deal tenderly with their faults. But we must deal 
faithfully. 

Our view of life, in this work, is in its external 
expression ; but as the external relates to and de- 
pends upon . the internal, it truly comprehends all 
facts and modes of being. It might seem of little 
consequence what one eats ; but the body is made 
up of particles, elaborated from the food. The 
mind, in its physical manifestations, depends upon 
the bodily organs. True refinement extends to 
every act of our life. A genuine purity respects all 
habits and functions. It is needful that a delicate 
person eat and drink delicately. Gross livers be- 
come gross in appearance and actions. Dr. John- 
son said, Men who drink beer think beer ; and a 
contemporary physiologist has suggested that men 
who eat pork, may give expression to many hog- 
gish propensities. 

As no person can be pleasant, sweet, and in all 
respects agreeable, without health, and as health 
depends in a great degree upon diet, we must be 
careful what and how we eat. We sympathize with 
the sufferings of illness; we know that many suffer 
without blame ; and that disease, often a fault, is 
sometimes chiefly a misfortune ; but we must give 



GROSS EATING. 67 

the best advice in our power in regard to the at- 
tainment and preservation of health. 

A pure, well-selected, and properly eaten diet, 
in preserving and assuring health — that is, the free 
and harmonious performance of all the functions of 
life — promotes the full development of the person, 
which is the essential element of beauty and grace. 
Relaxed muscles give an imperfect contour, and in- 
dolent, lounging habits. Obesity is ungraceful. 
Yery fat or very lean persons are always subject to 
ridicule, and often deserve it more than we think. 
Bad health, and a deranged and discordant state of 
the nervous system, tends to make people morose, 
fidgety, peevish, and every way disagreeable. But 
a pure diet favors clear blood, bright and happy 
thoughts, acute senses, a beautiful complexion, well 
developed limbs, grace and activity, with that hap- 
piness of spirits and liveliness of expression which 
are the charm of life. 

The man whose stomach is loaded with heavy, 
gross, indigestible food ; whose blood is thickened 
with the bad humors of a flesh and fat diet, espe- 
cially of the coarser kinds of flesh and vegetables, 
is liable to a variety of, to say the least, untasteful 
conditions. 

Gross eating, in quality, quantity, and mode, pro- 
duce the following results. The reader will judge 
whether they had best be avoided. It produces 
indigestion, flatulence, constipation, with their at- 
tendant and consequent disorders ; 

An unpleasant fetor of the breath, one of the 
most annoying of the lesser calamities of life ; 

Discoloration, decay, and loss of the teeth, and 
a consequent marring of beauty, as well as great 
suffering ; 



68 A PD«E DIET. 

Thickening, coarse appearance, and sallowness or 
tallowy look of the skin ; often with blotches and 
pimples upon the face and person ; 

Chronic catarrh, or morbid excitement of the 
mucous glands, filling the nostrils and throat with 
phlegm, and producing all its unpleasant conse- 
quences ; 

Dullness, stupor, obesity, and a tendency to 
apoplexy. 

A pure diet, which is one composed chiefly of 
fruits and farinaceous substances, such as bread, 
hominy, rice, and other grains, with the more deli- 
cate annualized substances, is favorable to the pur- 
est and best condition of body and spirit. With 
moderate eating and at regular intervals, and 
healthy conditions in other respects, it is highly 
favorable to a good digestion ; a regular perform- 
ance of all the animal functions ; a clear, vigorous 
intellect ; exquisite sensation ; a pure, healthy com- 
plexion ; a sweet breath, and pleasant aroma of the 
whole person ; sound white teeth ; freedom from 
colds and catarrh ; and, in a word, the purest and 
happiest conditions of the whole organism.* 

But if one cares little for the science or philoso- 
phy of health, he would at least avoid any cause of 

* Further and more particular information respecting the 
conditions of Health, the causes of Disease, natural meth- 
ods of cure, and the influences of dietetic and other habits 
on the human organization, may be found in the writings of 
Drs. Lamb, Graham, and Alcott. 



MODES OF EATINO 



69 



disgust. He would neither eat nor drink to make 
himself odious, or even ridiculous. 

Do not eat ravenously, like a soldier after a long 
march, or a starved pauper at a soup house. Bad 
as this seems in a gentleman, in a lady it becomes 
frightful. Eat daintily rather, as if you respected 
yourself so much that you were careful what you 
allowed to enter it ; eat carefully, also, as having a 
proper regard to the amount and kind of work you 
put upon your organs of digestion and assimilation. 
Subject them to no degrading or laborious offices. 




10 RIGHTS OF ORGANS. 

The internal organs have their rights as well as 
the external. The eye has a right to see pleasant 
forms and colors, and motions ; the ear to hear 
pleasant sounds, and sensible, or witty, or loving 
words ; the nose to smell delicate and enlivening 
odors ; the mouth to taste all admirable flavors ; — 
and they have a right to protection from the oppo- 
sites of all these. In the same way, in the beautiful 
republic of the human organism, every faculty, and 
every function has its own rights ; the proper use of 
every organ is to be respected, and it is to be pro- 
tected from all wrongs, or punishment is surely in- 
flicted, and the whole body suffers. 

So the science of manners, or relations, is first 
internal ; and the human body is a type of society. 
The healthy, fully developed body is the type of a 
true and harmonious society : the diseased and dis- 
cordant body, is also the synonym of an equally dis- 
eased and discordant social system. 

The stomach has a right to pure, healthy, and 
digestible food, enough, not too much, and at suit- 
able intervals ; and it will rebel, if not well treated. 
So the lungs have a right to pure air, and to room 
for a free expansion. Foul air,, and tight clothing, 
are outrages on the human lungs, which never fail 
to meet with punishment. The heart has a right to 
good blood, from the stomach and lungs ; and the 
brain, nerves, muscles, and the whole organism, to 
their proper supply of nutriment. 

In the same way, every individual of the society 
or body politic, to which you belong, has certain 
rights, in his relations to you, which you cannot 
violate with impunity. 

Let us return to this matter of food. To eat 
healthily, is to eat tastefully and properly Beans, 



CARE OP THE BREATH. 71 

which produce an annoying flatulence, are to be 
taken with great moderation. Onions have such a 
disagreeable odor, so penetrating, and to many peo- 
ple so repulsive, that persons going into any com- 
pany, or liable to have calls, had best avoid them. 
So of all food and drinks which taint the breath, or 
produce eructations. The odor of beer, wine, and 
liquors, immediate, and consequent, is very unplea- 
eant to many persons. If you have any suspicion 
of a bad breath, from any cause, ascertain the fact. 
If you cannot perceive it yourself, by breathing in 
your hand, or into a closed vessel, adjure some 
friend — some one, who for your sake will have more 
candor than false delicacy — to tell you. If there 
be the slightest taint, find put the cause. It may 
be a defective tooth. Have it plugged or pulled. 
You may have neglected to keep them perfectly 
well cleaned. Take a good brush, moderately hard, 
some fire soap, water, and powdered charcoal, with 
floss silk or fine thread to clean between the teeth, 
and see that this cause is removed, night and morn- 
ing, or as often as needful ; cleansing the mouth 
carefully after every meal. The cause may be dys- 
pepsia, or a disease of the lungs. Lose no time in 
attending to so significant a symptom of disease. 

The breath of a perfectly healthy man or woman 
is as sweet as that of a cow ; and many persons have 
a fragrance of person sweeter than the aroma of the 
sweetest flowers. Be thankful if you are so blessed. 
and so capable of blessing others : but be sure, by 
all the means in your power, not to be an object of 
disgust, in a world where we all need so much of 
sympathy — where we should all try to be as plea- 
sant as possible to each other, and where duty and 
happiness go hand in hand. 



T2 



RUDENESS OF EXPRESSION 



Avoid all rudeness of expression, either of word 
or act. It may be tolerated, perhaps ; still it is a 
trespass on rights. 





»ORTJTER IN EB. 

For most of the 
purposes of life, you 
may be sure that the 
suaviter is to be pre- 
ferred to the fortiter, 
though that has its 
true place. The sharp- 
est knife cuts smooth- 
ly. It is rough and 
dull blades that hack 
and scrape. It ia 
Tery easy to be civil, 
when you wish to be; 
BVAYmn m modo. ft j s generally worth 

the trouble to endeavor to be something more. 



PERSONAL RIGHTS. 13 

The personality of every individual is sacred. 
Each man — each woman, is sovereign. They be- 
long to themselves first of all : and then to those 
upon whom they please to bestow themselves. 
Around every person there is a certain sphere of 
repulsion, into which no one ought to intrude. It 
is an impoliteness, a rudeness ; it is even an affront 
and an outrage to come within a certain distance of 
any person without permission, expressed or implied. 
Every body must keep their distance, and endeavor 
to know what their distance is. To run against a 
man, is an act which demands apology — -when pur- 
posely done, it is a gross affront. To slap a man on 
the back is a rudeness. To put yourself in persoual 
contact with him in any way, you should be entirely 
certain that such contact is desirable, and that you 
are acting up to the law of supply and demand. In 
a gentleman's conduct towards a lady, these rules 
are still more imperative. 

You have no right to draw near, speak to, or 
touch, any person, unless you have the right to be- 
lieve that such presence, address, or contact is de- 
sirable ; and it is not to be presumed upon. 

The right of individual privacy ; to be alone ; to 
have command of one's time, thoughts and actions, 
is continually violated. Husbands and wives ; child- 
ren and parents ; brothers and sisters ; friends and 
neighbors ; and even strangers, are continually in- 
truding upon the lives and rights of each other. 

But while we assert the most absolute and sove- 
reign right of every developed human being to his 
own independent self-hood, self-ownership, and self- 
control — to an absolute freedom from all intrusion, 
espionage, oppression, and assertion of ownership ; 
we must no less deprecate a haughty exclusivism, 



*li INTRUSIONS AND BIPERTINENCES. 

which denies the relationship and the real rights 
and claims of others. 

In society, every grace of familiarity, friendship, 
and love should be exercised and bestowed in per- 
fect freedom ; not 'as satisfying a claim, or paying 
a debt, but as exercising a generous and gracious 
hospitality. When a gentleman is attracted to a 
lady, he is not to intrude upon her ; but he may 
in many ways signify his sense of her agreeable- 
ness ; and she, if it be her pleasure to accept his 
homage, to admit his friendship, or respond to his 
love, can invite him to her presence, and extend to 
him freely all the favors that belong to their proper 
relation to each other. This by way of illustration 
here ; to be more fully treated of hereafter. 

A rude and boisterous behavior is likely to be 
discordantly demonstrative, and jar harshly on the 
nerves of many persons, in a mixed society. • Fre- 
quent and loud laughter, an ungraceful and dis- 
torted act, requires entire sympathy to be allowa- 
ble At the theatre, where everybody is laughing ; 
in a merry company, where all are partaking of the 
same humor, laugh to your liking : but when the 
cause of your laughter is not known ; when others 
are in a very different humor, the sound of mirth 
may be anything but mirthful. 

If we may not carelessly and unfittingly intrude 
our hilarity, neither should we shadow the happi- 
ness of others with our gloom. 

For this reason, I doubt the real propriety of 
wearing mourning in the streets ; in mixed compa- 
nies, and particularly on festive occasions. It is an 
obtrusion, and may be an intrusion of the trappings 
of woe, and of merely personal sorrows. For the 
same reason, we dislike the use of mourning note 



TO BE AXD TO DO. 



lb 



paper, cards, &c, except among the friends of the 
deceased, and those who may be expected to par- 
take of our sorrows. 

But as many persons have a pleasing and joyful 
hope, and even a very strong assurance, of the im- 
mortality, and comparative or complete blessedness 
of those who leave the earth-sphere by the gate of 
death ; mourning, to them, is an oppressive custom, 
and of no true significance. They would rather put 
on white robes, hang roses and immortels upon the 
tomb, and greet the parting spirit with a triumphant 
song. 

But we need not enumerate further, in this place, 
the things to be avoided. They will occur in all 
our future chapters, as every right supposes an op- 
posite wrong ; as every wrong a right. 

The principles of good behavior have been indi- 
cated. They are, to be all you should be in your- 
self ; to do all you should do in regard to others : 
to do no evil, and neglect no good. 




CHAPTER VII. 



A BILL OF RIGHTS. 



Friends and fellow 
Citizens ! when it 
comes to a considera- 
tion of rights, we 
Americans are perfect- 
ly at home. We have 
never done anything 
else. That was what 
we came here for in 
the first place. Our 
Declaration of Inde- 
pendence is all the 
way through an asser- 
tion of rights — the 
great rights of Life, 
Liberty, and the Pur- 
suit of Happiness ; which include everything, with 
some tautology. 

The right of life includes all that makes up the 
duties and enjoyments of the truest and best life 
Liberty is the right to the freedom of a true life ; 
and the Pursuit of Happiness is only the sponta- 
neous exercise of the right of Liberty ; for as hap- 
piness is the great end of being, every one seeks 
it as far aR he knows how and is permitted to do so. 




THE GRACES AND THE UTILITIES. 7t 

In the previous chapters, I have given some sug- 
gestions as to the personal qualifications of a mem- 
ber of society, more negative than positive. I shall 
pass soon to the attainment of those accomplish- 
ments, which fit a man to fill his true place in the 
social organization. As yet, we have little idea of 
a true society, indeed ; it lives in conception, and 
will flourish in the future ; and the earnest work of 
the present is to aid in the needful preparation. 

It is the result of growth, but growth is aided by 
culture. Let us cultivate the graces of life. 

But the graces have their foundation in utilities, 
and all rest on principles or rights. Arbitrary rules 
of etiquette are like artificial flowers tied on sticks. 
You may wear them if it is the custom, but they 
have no fragrance, and bear no fruit. 

As manners, or the intercourse of social relations, 
aside from the etiquette of caprice, or fashion, are 
based on rights ; let us examine these more closely. 

We have rights, but we have also duties ; — yes, 
but our duties are either the assertion of our own 
rights, or a proper deference to those of others. So 
it comes at last, simply to a declaration of rights. 

Personality, Individuality, Sovereignty of the In- 
dividual, Liberty, Self-hood, Self-ownership — these 
are a few terms, defining and asserting individual 
freedom as the first right of humanity. 

Looking at this abstractly, it would seem that this 
right was absolute and unlimited. But it is defined, 
and finds its limit, in the relation which each one 
bears to those around him. 

I am free. No being has a right to control my 
life ; no institution, no law. I exist ; I feel ; I 
think. Life, feeling, and thought are free ; and all 
expressions of life, and feeling, and thought are also 



78 TOLERATION OF OPINIONS. 

free, until I come into collision with some other 
similar individuality. The moment I trespass upon 
the equally rightful freedom of another, I find the 
limit of my freedom. 

Born of society — born in society — with beings 
around me, claiming sympathy and aid from me, as 
I also ask it of them, I find that relations have 
rights and laws as well as being. In an artificial 
and discordant society, hemmed around with false 
conditions, I am compelled, for peace, and security, 
and to ensure a moderate degree of enjoyment, to 
abandon many of my rights. 

Let us endeavor to define some of these Rights 
and Relations. Freedom of Opinion is claimed as 
an individual right ; yet the assertion of an opinion, 
conscientiously entertained, may subject a man to 
social persecution, and its practical realization may 
be considered a crime. 

A certain deference to the opinions of others is 
considered an act of politeness ; but the Inquisition 
has been so impolite as to burn hosts of heretics ; 
John Calvin had the bad manners to roast Servetus 
to death over a slow fire ; and it is but a few years 
since the laws of Massachusetts sent Abner Knee- 
land to jail for questioning some theological dogma. 

The heretics may have been impolite in denying 
some doctrines of the church ; Servetus showed bad 
manners, perhaps, in questioning the Trinity ; Knee- 
land may have been rude to the believers in modern 
orthodoxy. 

It is evident that there must be some compromise 
here. Liberty is a Sacred Right ; and the asser- 
tion and exercise of a right can never be wrong. 
The gentlemanly ground, then, must be that of 
Universal Toleration of all opinions, and of all re- 



TOLERATION OF ACTION. 19 

suiting acts, that do not infringe on the rights of 
others. 

If I believe in one God, and my neighbor believes 
in twenty, there is no reason why we may not say 
" good morning ;" buy and sell ; eat and drink ; 
perform all neighborly offices, and partake of all 
social enjoyments. 

But if, to obey what he fancies to be the com- 
mands of the gods, he must burn down my house, 
destroy my belief, break up my worship, he is guilty 
of a great impoliteness. 

Or I am a monogamist, holding to the theory, 
though not always the practice, of most European 
nations, that the marital intercourse of one man 
with one woman is according to the divine order ; 
but my neighbor, who believes in twenty gods, also 
believes in a plurality of wives, according to the 
theory, and, to some extent, the practice of most 
oriental countries. Politeness, and a proper regard 
to the rights of Freedom of Opinion, require that 
my neighbor should be perfectly tolerant of my 
having but one wife ; and I can see no reason why 
I should not be equally polite, and tolerant of his 
having a dozen ; but our ill-mannered laws would 
send him to State-prison. 

If a man denying my God, or marrying two wives, 
or refusing to keep my Sunday, or wearing a long- 
tailed coat, when short ones are in fashion, really 
trespasses upon any right of mine in so doing, I 
may protest against it; and if the injury demands it, 
I may resist such encroachment. But the only case 
in which this really seems to be the fact, is that of 
the short-tailed coat. That is obtruded upon my 
sight unpleasantly ; and he must either get a coat 
with a longer tail, or I must look the other way, or 



80 MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. 

otherwise learn to tolerate the nuisance. As to his 
being a pagan, or a polygamist, these are his own 
private and domestic concerns, and unless they are 
obtruded upon me offensively, are none of my busi- 
ness. 

These may be considered as strong illustrations ; 
but we wish to make as clear as possible the fact that 
all rights, and the essence of true politeness, are 
contained in the homely maxim, "Mind your, own 
business ;" which means, by a pretty evident impli- 
cation, that you are to let your neighbor's business 
alone. 

Whatever is truly a man's business, he has a right 
to attend to ; wiiatever is really his duty, he has a 
right to accomplish ; but the thought or act of my 
neighbor, who lives next door, or in the next street, 
if really no affair of mine, and interfering with no 
right of mine, I have no right to meddle with, any 
more than if he lived in Turkey or China. 

Free speech is sometimes reckoned as a right ; 
but it is in strict subordination to the rights of ears. 
A man has every possible right to free speech, upon 
his own grounds, within his own dwelling, or wher- 
ever he can exercise it without the infliction of some 
wrong upon another. But when he comes into my 
house, or approaches me anywhere, he should not 
say what he knows will be unpleasant to me. He 
has no more right to inflict a rude or distasteful 
speech or opinion, than he has to throw a stone at 
me, or pelt me with mud. But, by mutual consent, 
we may engage in a discussion, as men box or fence, 
to try their skill, to perfect themselves in exercises, 
or for mere amusement. Freedom of Speech, there- 
fore, is subject to the law of supply and demand ; 
or a compromise of mutual tolerances. 



FREEDOM OF LIFE. 81 

But, as it pleases every one to express his opin- 
ions ; as most people have the desire to instruct, or 
amuse, or convert others, it is politeness to indulge 
them ; and one of the first essentials of good breed- 
ing in society, and of the art of pleasing, is to be a 
good listener. 

Freedom of life, or of all strictly private and 
personal enjoyments, is what no well-mannered man 
will ever question. He asks it for himself ; he un- 
derstands that it is the right of all others. In this 
respect he minds his own business. An American, 
in Vienna, made some remark to a distinguished 
diplomatist respecting the private morals of Yiennese 
society. "Sir," was the answer, " in this city every 
man does as he pleases in all such matters, and no 
one ever speaks of them." 

The law of Good Manners, in respect to the pri- 
vate and personal affairs of the individual, could 
scarcely be better stated. A man must be the lord 
of his own life, and he is responsible to others 
only so far as they are affected by his conduct. 
Every woman, whatever her social relations, is first 
of all the owner of herself, holding the first and 
highest right to seek her own happiness, and control 
her own actions. 

Among the most intimate and sacred of simply 
personal rights, is the Right to Freedom in Love. 
This does not mean licentiousness in the expression 
of love ; much less outrages upon social morals, 
with which love has no connection. It means the 
right of every one to be governed in the most pri- 
vate and sacred affairs of life by his own free 
choice, and not by the dictation of others. To 
question the right of any man to love any woman, 
or vice versa, is therefore a breach of politeness. 
6 



84 CRITICISM. 

ing cabbage immoral, and opposed to the best in- 
terests of society." This may pass, and I may 
thank my friend for the suggestion, and engage to 
take it into respectful consideration. But if he 
adds, " You have no right to eat cabbages, and if 
you persist we intend to pull your house down," 1 
should be apt to buy a revolver and try the issue. 

It may be known, as a matter of fact, and inno- 
cently related, that such a man is a fire-worshiper : 
that such a woman knits on Sunday ; that another 
eats his Welsh rarebit with mustard ; that Miss 
Jones has the misfortune to be devotedly in love 
with her friend's husband ; or that Mrs, Thompson 
accepts the free-love theories of the Fourierists. 
But when such matters, the love or the mustard, 
become causes of persecution, there is a very gross 
violation of the first principles of good manners. 

In the criticism of authors and artists, we have 
many cases in point. The private and personal re 
lations of Grisi and Mario, had no rightful connec- 
tion with their success as singers ; and whoever 
withheld, on that account, a plaudit due to their 
talent, was guilty of a wrong, as much as if a man 
should refuse to pay a note, because it was held by 
one who belonged to another church. 

In a word, civility, good manners, politeness, and 
all the principles of social ethics and social policy, 
require the most careful respect for the rights of 
every individual. We are very careful not to step 
on one's toes : let us tread as gingerly among con- 
sciences. A man would deserve to be kicked who 
should insult another for a squint, or a hump-back. 
Are differences in faith, opinion, and feelings less to 
be respected? A gentleman would not insult ano- 
ther, on account of poverty ; why should he censure 



THE RIGHT OF PRIVACY. 85 

him for atheism, which may be only poverty of faith ? 
and in a country where a man is allowed to own 
fifty farms, it is very hard to see why he might not, 
on a pinch, be allowed to have two families ; pro- 
vided he lives in Turkey, or Utah, where religion 
sanctions, and the law allows it. This subject, how- 
ever, we will leave for the discussion of the Women's 
Rights party ; the Perfectionists ; the Fourierists ; 
and all other amiable world-savers, who, though ask- 
ing the largest liberty themselves, are not always 
ready to allow equal rights to people of opposite 
opinions. 

One of the rights most commonly trespassed upon, 
constituting a violent breach of good manners, is 
the Right of Privacy ; or of the control of one's 
own person and affairs. There are places in tins 
country, where there exists scarcely the slightest 
recognition of this right. A man or woman bolts 
into your house without knocking. No room is 
sacred unless you lock the door, and an exclusion 
would be an insult. Parents intrude upon children, 
and children upon parents. The husband thinks he 
has a right to enter his wife's room, and the wife 
would feel injured if excluded, by night or day, from 
her husband's. It is said that they even open each 
other's letters ; and claim, as a right, that neither 
should have any secrets from the other. 

It is difficult to conceive of such a state of in- 
tense barbarism in a civilized country, such a denial 
of the simplest and most primitive rights, such an 
utter absence of delicacy and good manners ; and 
had we not been assured, on good authority, that 
such things existed, we should consider any sugges- 
tions respecting them needless and impertinent. 

A man's house is Ms castle, which no one should 



84 CRITICISM. 

ing cabbage immoral, and opposed to the best in- 
terests of society." This may pass, and I may 
thank my friend for the suggestion, and engage to 
take it into respectful consideration. But if he 
adds, "You have no right to eat cabbages, and if 
you persist we intend to pull your house down," 1 
should be apt to buy a revolver and try the issue. 

It may be known, as a matter of fact, and inno- 
cently related, that such a man is a fire-worshiper : 
that such a woman knits on Sunday ; that another 
eats his Welsh rarebit with mustard ; that Miss 
Jones has the misfortune to be devotedly in love 
with her friend's husband * or that Mr^. Thompson 
accepts the free-love theories of the Fourierists. 
But when such matters, the love or the mustard, 
become causes of persecution, there is a very gross 
violation of the first principles of good manners. 

In the criticism of authors and artists, we have 
many cases in point. The private and personal re 
lations of Grisi and Mario, had no rightful connec- 
tion with their success as singers ; and whoever 
withheld, on that account, a plaudit due to their 
talent, was guilty of a wrong, as much as if a man 
should refuse to pay a note, because it was held by 
one who belonged to another church. 

In a word, civility, good manners, politeness, and 
all the principles of social ethics and social policy, 
require the most careful respect for the rights of 
every individual. We are very careful not to step 
on one's toes : let us tread as gingerly among con- 
sciences. A man would deserve to be kicked who 
should insult another for a squint, or a hump-back. 
Are differences in faith, opiuion, and feelings less to 
be respected? A gentleman would not insult ano- 
ther, on account of poverty ; why should he censure 



THE RIGHT OF PRIVACY. 85 

liim for atheism, which may be only poverty of faith ? 
and in a country where a man is allowed to own 
fifty farms, it is very hard to see why he might not, 
on a pinch, be allowed to have two families ; pro- 
vided he lives in Turkey, or Utah, where religion 
sanctions, and the law allows it. This subject, how- 
ever, we will leave for the discussion of the Women's 
Rights party ; the Perfectionists ; the Pourierists ; 
and all other amiable world-savers, who, though ask- 
ing the largest liberty themselves, are not always 
ready to allow equal rights to people of opposite 
opinions. 

One of the rights most commonly trespassed upon, 
constituting a violent breach of good manners, is 
the Right of Privacy ; or of the control of one's 
own person and affairs. There are places in this 
country, where there exists scarcely the slightest 
recognition of this right. A man or woman bolts 
into your house without knocking. No room is 
sacred unless you lock the door, and an exclusion 
would be an insult. Parents intrude upon children, 
and children upon parents. The husband thinks he 
has a right to enter his wife's room, and the wife 
would feel injured if excluded, by night or day, from 
her husband's. It is said that they even open each 
other's letters ; and claim, as a right, that neither 
should have any secrets from the other. 

It is difficult to conceive of such a state of in- 
tense barbarism in a civilized country, such a denial 
of the simplest and most primitive rights, such an 
utter absence of delicacy and good manners ; and 
had we not been assured, on good authority, that 
such things existed, we should consider any sugges- 
tions respecting them needless and impertinent. 

A man's house is his castle, which no one should 



80 INTRUSIONS. 

enter without due notice, and permission asked and 
granted. The house appertains to the family, as a 
great coat or cloak does to the person who wears 
it. You have no more right to get into one than 
the other, without leave. It is trespass, and if you 
do mischief, it is burglary. 

Each person in a dwelling should, if possible, 
have a room, as sacred from intrusion as the house 
is to the family. No child, grown to years of dis- 
cretion, should be outraged by intrusion. ISo rela- 
tion, however intimate, can justify it. So the trunks, 
boxes, packets, papers, and letters of every individ- 
ual, locked or unlocked, sealed or unsealed, are 
sacred. It is ill manners even to open a bookcase, 
or to read a written paper, lying open, without per- 
mission, expressed or implied. Books in an open 
case, or on a center table, cards in a card case, and 
newspapers, are presumed to be open for examina- 
tion. Be careful where you go, what you read, 
and what you handle, particularly in private apart- 
ments. 

The right to control one's own time and affairs is 
practically denied by every intrusion. In fashiona- 
ble society, much is saved by the use of cards, and 
by considering visiting or making calls a mere cere- 
mony, to be got over as easily and rapidly as possi- 
ble. A lady takes her visiting list, and walks or 
rides round to the house of each acquaintance. If 
the lady on whom she calls chooses to see her, she 
does so for ten minutes ; if not, she directs the ser- 
vant to say "engaged," or "not at home," which 
means only, not receiving company, and the caller 
leaves a card, which answers every purpose, and for 
which she gets a call or card the week following. 
The ceremony is attended to, and each lady is left 



THE REMEDY. 81 

to employ her time as she pleases ; and is not com- 
pelled to be bored hour after hour with disagreea- 
ble, meddling, intrusive, and repulsive people. But 
in the country, whole lives — lives that might be val- 
uable and pleasant — are broken up, and wasted in 
entertaining people you do not wish to see, and in 
trying to be cordial and genial to those you wish at 
Jericho. 

The remedy is for every one to assert his right to 
his time, his life, and his privacy ; it is for every 
one to delicately, considerately, and justly respect 
the rights of others. 

Don't intrude. Go where you are invited. Be 
sure of your welcome. It is not to be assumed that 
your nearest relation or dearest friend wishes for 
your company. When two persons are together, 
men engaged in business, lovers in courtship, mar- 
ried couples in the delights of the honeymoon, or 
the little quarrels which are said sometimes to fol- 
low that happy season, be sure that you do not 
make that duet a trio unless most specially invited 
to do so. Don't walk with man or woman without 
either an invitation or permission ; and be at all 
times so self-respecting and so regardful of the 
rights of others, as never to intrude where by possi- 
bility and for any reason you may not be wanted. 

Let no one push his way into any society. Ob 
serve here, as elsewhere, the law of supply and de- 
mand. Do not intrude. Wait to be invited 
Showing anxiety to be admitted to any set or 
coterie in the world of fashion, is the surest way of 
being excluded. People do not like to have any 
one forced upon them. They prize most what is 
most difficult to obtain. Wait till you are asked, 
— sought, — urged, even, if you have any doubt of 
receiving a just recognition. 



88 REPUTATION AND CHARACTER. 

But in this country, the path to whatever social 
distinction is desirable, is open to every one who 
will pay its price. If you wish to be admitted into 
the best society of any place, make yourself desira- 
ble, and, as far as possible, indispensable. If you 
are rich, it will need all your exertions to do away 
with that misfortune. A misfortune to be rich? 
It may be, when a man's really amiable qualities 
are lost sight of in consequence. Sensitive persons, 
who are also rich, have much suffering from the 
constantly intruding suspicion that it is the prestige 
of wealth rather than their own merits, which gives 
them their social consideration. Such a man will 
say to himself, "This is all very fine ; but is it not 
my money to which these people are paying their 
compliments ? Maria is charming, but is it not my 
money that attracts her ?" If such a man could 
have the courage to seem to lose his property, or 
the still greater courage to do so in reality, he 
might find his real estimation. 

Doubtless our society is full of false opinions and 
hypocrisies. Reputation goes further than charac- 
ter. Reputation is the estimation, false or true, 
which the world puts upon you. Character is what 
you really are. 

The brave and noble thing to do is to have a 
good character, and let your reputation follow it, 
as it may ; but it may be necessary to your enjoy- 
ment of what little social life there is around you, 
that you should also take some care of your reputa- 
tion. 

Character is yourself — reputation the clothes you 
wear ; and we have counseled great care in respect 
to clothing. In this case, however, the garments 
are often made for you by others, and you wear a 
misfit in spite of yourself. 



CHARACTER AND MANNERS. 



89 



But character and reputation for mere honesty or 
goodness are not a sufficient passport to society. 
" He means well," does not mend the mischiefs of 
stupidity and awkwardness. In a harmonious cha- 
racter, the external grace and manners correspond 
to the internal beauty of mind and heart. They 
are sometimes divorced, but more seldom than many 
suppose ; and we have no rule but to judge the in- 
ternal by the external, which should conform to 
each other. An awkward man in society is like a 
bull in a china shop, always doing mischief. 







90 



CHARACTER AND MANNERS. 



Our well meaning friend on the preceding page 
has the faculty of making himself disagreeable ; on 
this we introduce one who has the art to make him- 
self useful ; one of those indispensable society men, 
characterized as " a nice young man for a small 



PARTY. 




But the most agreeable qualities of mind and 
manners ; the finest talents and the most elegant 
tastes ; the best actual character, will not always 
make up for the want of that kind of social reputa- 
tion which consists in being unobjectionable. 



GRACEFUL MANNERS. 91 

I have known highly estimable and honorable 
persons, who were vilified over a whole country, 
libeled by the public press, and slandered by private 
malignity, on account of some heterodoxy of opin- 
ion. Sometimes a man must even submit patiently 
to contemporary injustice ; and, satisfied with his 
present character, leave posterity to settle the far 
less important matter of his reputation. 

These are individual exceptions. As a general 
rule, every society, that is, every group of persons, 
mutually dependent on each other for sympathy, 
kindness, exchange of ideas, or affections, attracts 
to itself such as are fitted to belong to it. The 
world is not rich enough to be able to reject a wor- 
thy, sensible, and especially an accomplished person. 
The man whose person and manners are unobjec- 
tionable, will pass with even a moderate share of 
intellect. 

A man of what is called a genteel exterior, or 
having the appearance of a gentleman, as the police 
reports say ; one who simply wears black and holds 
his tongue, has no lack of invitations. What, then, 
may be expected of one whose bearing is dignified ; 
whose manners are graceful ; whose tones are cor- 
dial ; whose conversation is full of good sense, or 
wit, or humor ; who knows how to listen, and when 
to talk ; who always says and does just the right 
thing, at the right time, and in the right manner ; 
who can join cheerfully and tastefully in any game 
or pastime ; who can sing, perhaps, or play, or 
dance ; whose attentions, never forced, or awkward, 
or ill-timed, are always agreeable ; who has the tact 
to see just what each person requires, and the talent 
to supply the want ; who is never awkward, never 
selfish, never rude, but always bringing a sense of 



92 DEPORTMENT IN SOCIETY. 

security, and ease, and happiness ; who is, in a word, 
a thorough gentleman and man of society ? Of 
course such a man is a treasure anywhere ; and 
these qualities will make up for the lack of all arti- 
ficial advantages ; and the lady who possesses the 
corresponding characteristics is the belle of society, 
a treasure and a charm. 

If you doubt your possession of the qualifications 
necessary to fill your place as a member of any 
society into which you are invited, or to which you 
would wish to belong, try to attain these qualifica- 
tions. If you have the negative requisites of not 
being offensive ; enter without fear a school where 
you may graduate with honor. Hoyle, in his dis- 
sertation on whist, says, " If you are in doubt, take 
the trick." But in a company with whose customs 
and observances you are unacquainted, if you are in 
doubt, be quiet, observe, and do as others do. 

As the best single rule, in regard to dress, is to 
be so dressed that while everybody is satisfied with 
your appearance, no one can remember exactly what 
you had on ; so the best rule in respect to manners, 
in company, is to have no one remember what you 
did. Let it not be said — " Did you observe that 
awkward man, in a flashy waistcoat ; the man that 
eat with his knife, and laughed at his own jokes V 

And it is not well for a lady to give occasion for 
people to remember her, as " that tall woman with 
so many flounces ; the one that was laughing and 
flirting so desperately with Mr. Smith ; I mean the 
lady that wore so much pearl powder, and rouged 
so high : you must have seen her !" 

It would be better to have said, " What an 
agreeable young man that Mr. Jones is, so quiet, 
and sensible ; so polite and graceful !" 



COMPANIONSHIP. 93 

" Why, ma, where was he ? I didn't observe him; 
how was he dressed ?" 

" Dressed ? I didn't notice anything peculiar. 
He had on a coat, and trowsers, I suppose.. He 
was very elegant, but I remember nothing peculiar 
in his dress, or style any way, only that it seemed 
perfect." 

But the question of society, and of the part you 
shall play in it, must be answered with reference to 
its objects. What is the use of society to us ; and 
why should we qualify ourselves to shine in its varied 
assemblies ? 

The answer to this question takes us deep into 
the philosophy of human life. It must be also the 
strongest motive we can present to all achievement. 
The hardest punishment, short of intense bodily tor- 
ture, that man inflicts for crime, is solitary confine- 
ment. The saddest human lot is that of exile, and 
isolation. The greatest joy that could come to a 
man, cast alone upon a distant island, would be to 
meet a fellow-man of either gender. 

Reflect, how much of all enjoyment of life de- 
pends upon companionship. It is much to have one 
friend, one associate, one to love. But this is not 
enough. Your faculties are too various ; and the 
variety of your faculties makes the variety of your 
social wants. 

No one person can satisfy every want of any other. 
We must tire of monotony. The finest music in the 
world soon wearies. Nature gives us an infinite 
variety, in her productions and aspects, or we should 
die of ennui. 

Well, there is the family. Wife, children, rela- 
tives, perhaps. Do not these suffice ? Look into 
your heart and answer. You love your wife, doubt- 



94 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE. 

less ; but have other women therefore no charms 
for you ? Have you no pleasure in conversing with 
this one, who is so clever and piquant ; in dancing 
with that, who is so full of grace, and elegance ? 
Do you not find a charm in many women, besides 
the one ? We will not speak of love — that, of 
course, is out of the question. Morality forbids it ; 
and the laws. I speak only of that interest and 
happiness which society permits. 

The family, then, is not sufficient. You yawn at 
the fire-side. You have exhausted every topic. 
You have nothing to ask, and nothing to relate ; 
unless it be some news, or gossip, and that is outside 
the family circle. Oh, it is a bore ! 

■ Well, what do you do? "My dear, can't we 
have a little party ? Invite in a few friends ; take 
a game of whist, have some music, or a dance ?" 
The dull family group wakes up. All is animation 
and pleasant anticipation. The list is made out, 
guests are invited, and you find yourself in society. 
Your little group, very nice and happy, but a little 
tiresome, joins itself to other groups, and the social 
nature of man vindicates itself against the charge of 
utter selfishness. 

And for this society, in all its phases, you have 
the need of the manners and accomplishments which 
contribute to its harmony and happiness. It is just 
that you contribute your share to the general stock 
of entertainment : certainly you should not mar the 
pleasure of others. 

No man has set to work to invent what is called 
society. It has grown. Its excellences are the ex- 
pressions of human goodness and aspirations ; its 
defects are those of human character and conditions. 

The first requisite of society is the surrender of 



COMFORT AND HAPPINESS. 



95 



selfishness, and the willingness to reciprocate, or ex- 
change the goods of life with each other. It is a 
system of commerce. We buy and sell — give and 
take. A smile pays for a compliment ; a witticism 
for a philosophical observation ; and when there is 
nothing else, no visible manifestation, there is an 
interchange of those subtle aromal qualities, which 
form our sympathies and antipathies, our attractions 
and repulsions. 

It is this which makes the comfort and happiness 
of being near a person whose sphere is pleasant to 
us ; of holding hands in silence. Speech is only 
one mode of communication. It is well for thoughts ; 
but there are other methods of expression for the 
feelings, which have more to do with our happiness. 




ALLOW MB TO CONGRATULATE TOP. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

OF SOCIETY. 




Person, manners, 
taste, elegance, ton, 
fashion, — these are 
words of important 
meanings to those who 
wish to make a figure 



in good society ; a world we 
often pretend to despise, while 
we sigh in secret for its suc- 
cesses and its enjoymeuts ; a 
world in which a great suc- 
cess demands great merits, 
great talent, or good fortune. 
Doubtless society has many 
imperfections. Shall we, there- 
fore, despise and neglect it, or 
allow ourselves to be neglected? 




WHAT IS SOCIETY? 9t 

Society is a word in constant use, but there is a 
degree of vagueness in its meaning. We talk of 
the interests of society ; the good opinion of soci- 
ety ; a good position in society ; of going into soci- 
ety. It is a general term for social relations and 
intercourse. We have fashionable society, or the 
gay world, le beau monde; intellectual society, made 
up of people who think, or think they think ; artistic 
society, composed of persons having a talent or taste 
for the culture of art ; and general society, includ- 
ing all interests. 

As men gather more closely together, in villages, 
large towns, and cities, they find more the pleasure 
and convenience of association. In the wilds, in 
sparsely settled countries, and frontier regions, indi- 
vidualism has a savage aspect ; but it is here that 
we commonly find the most hearty hospitality. In 
cities, though men are brought constantly together, 
there grows up a strange selfishness, and indifference 
to each other. 

In the country, a man knows all the affairs of 
his neighbors for ten miles around ; in the city he 
does not know even the name of the family living 
next door, from whom he is separated only by a 
wall eight inches in thickness. 

Still, contact rounds off the rough angles of cha- 
racter, and renders men polished in manners. Meet- 
ing each other daily, in business and amusements, 
with constant occasions for mutual deference, atten- 
tions, and reciprocal good offices, men grow polite. 
Politeness and polish come from the Greek root of 
metropolis, police, policy, &c, as urbanity is from 
the Latin word of the same signification. But po- 
liteness and urbanity are no longer confined to the 
walled cities, where they originated, but flourish 
even more luxuriantly in the rural districts. 
7 



98 BIRTH AND BLOOD. 

In a large sense, every person, is considered a 
member of society ; but we speak of a solitary 
person as one who goes into no society — meaning 
one who neither visits nor is visited. A disreputa- 
ble person is not admitted into society. A morose 
person shuns society. A person of loose habits and 
associations mingles in low society. 

What is this low society ? In one sense it is im- 
moral, made up of persons who disregard the obser- 
vances and moralities of the social standard. It is 
people who are poor ; who do not dress well ; who 
live in unfashionable neighborhoods, or follow un- 
fashionable employments ; who lack cultivation, 
manner, taste, birth, or whatever is held to be neces- 
sary to good society. 

Where a hereditary aristocracy rules, a man's 
social position depends upon his ancestors. There 
is much of this in England and Germany, less in 
France, and some here. In all the older sections of 
the country there are groups of families who, either 
descending from a European aristocracy, or from 
having acquired wealth, condition, and culture at 
an early period, still claim, from birth and family, a 
superior consideration. 

Now birth and blood are worth just what they are 
worth, and no more. A man or woman of a good 
stock or breed, has the same superiority in conse- 
quence that a horse or dog has. A man may be 
born rich, handsome, smart, elegant, and noble ; 
there is no more doubt of this, than that a horse 
may be born with similar qualities and advantages. 
Another may be born poor, ugly, stupid, awkward, 
aud base. 

There is therefore an aristocracy of birth, which 
it is a great folly to deny, and the denial of which is 



A REAL ARISTOCRACY. 99 

as useless as it is false. Men may be born free, if 
there is any place where they are ; but equal they 
never have been. No two are exactly alike, even 
in the same family. Of two brothers, children of 
the same parents, with the same advantages of edu- 
cation, one will be a gentleman from his very birth, 
and the other a boor. How much more, in the 
children of different parents, born into widely vary- 
ing conditions. 

So we have everywhere a real aristocracy, which, 
as it exists naturally, or, at least, exists under the 
existing condition of human development, must be 
recognized for what it is ; but the false and perni- 
cious system of hereditary rank gives often to a 
stupid and graceless scamp the highest social posi- 
tion and advantages, which are withheld from the 
noblemen of nature. 

Our object is not to ignore the natural distinc- 
tions of society, but to demand for every one the 
place in the general estimation which of right, and 
from all his qualities, natural and acquired, belongs 
to him. It is to guide every ambitious spirit in 
the path of true excellence, and to open to him its 
honors and rewards. 




CHAPTER IX. 



SOCIAL FORMS AND OBSERVANCES. 



" You may as well be 
out of the world as out of 
the fashion," is a social 
proverb, which has in it 
more truth than the non- 
conformists of society will 
like to allow it. In many 
respects you had much bet- 
ter be out of the world ; 
jj|f and in some you will be 
| iV either ceremoniously or un- 
1E ceremoniously put out, if 
§§yon do not follow the 
fashions. 
Socially, it does not so much matter what you 
do, as how you do it. To shirk labor may send 
you to Congress or Blackwell's Island ; to get 
money under false pretences, may consign you 
either to Iranistan or Sing Sing. It depends upon 
how you do it. Not that the absolute quality of a 
thing is of no consequence. It is of much. To 
the interior life it is all. Lazarus may be a happier 
man than Dives ; and there are, doubtless persons 
more truly respectable, working out terms in the 
penitentiaries, than some of our fashionable mil- 




GAUCHERIE. 101 

lionaires. But, in an external sense, and in all 
outward seeming, the proverb is right. 

Be in the fashion, or forms and observances of 
the society around you, then, since they are a pro- 
tection even to the bad. Conform to usages which 
violate no principle of right ; because by violating 
them, and throwing yourself out of the current of 
life around you, you deprive yourself of opportunities 
for usefulness. There is a principle in expediency 
An awkward man, who cannot go into company 




KATHER INTERESTED. 



without committing some gaucherie, cannot have 
the same influence that belongs to one who is 
always polished and well bred. You never feel at 
ease with such a person, nor safe for a single mo- 
ment. He is always liable to say or do some terri-* 
ble, or some ridiculous thing — to tread on your 
toes, or overturn a tea-pot, break down a chair, or 
let out some scandalous secret. 



102 INTRODUCTION. 

An introduction was intended to be something 
more than merely making two persons acquainted 
with each other's names. In a casual intercourse, 
the names are of no importance. I meet a gentle- 
man, in a rail car, or on a steamboat ; we talk 
pleasantly for a time, and part with mutual good 
wishes. If, for any reason, it may be desirable for 
us to communicate further, we exchange cards, or 
take each other's addresses in our memorandum 
books. 

That Texan gentleman had a proper idea of the 
true intention of an introduction when he said : 
" Mr A., this is my friend Mr. B. — if he steals any- 
thing, I am responsible." 

An introduction is a social endorsement, and 
should not be lightly given. If you introduce a 
thief, you should be responsible for what he steals ; 
if a bore, or a donkey of any kind, you ought to 
suffer accordingly. Be very careful, then, how you 
introduce to any man a person who may borrow his 
money, run away with his wife, or commit any social 
misdemeanor. 

Special introductions are only for a particular 
object. At a public ball, or assembly, a gentleman 
is introduced to a lady, at his request, and by her 
permission, simply that he may be her partner in a 
dance. It is, then, his right and duty to make 
himself agreeable, and pay her every attention, for 
the time being, while dancing, and until he returns 
her to her seat ; but when he makes his retiring 
bow, the affair is ended. He has no better right to 
speak to her again, than if they had never spoken. 
True, he may take the opportunity to ask leave to 
be formally presented, and to continue the acquaint- 
ance • but that of course is the lady's option. A 



INTRODUCTION. 103 

belle who lias danced with a gentleman in the even- 
ing, in all the intimacy of the waltz, or polka, may 
refuse the next morning to give him the slightest 
recognition. We do not say that it is right for her 
to do so ; but it is according to etiquette, which 
gives to a woman on all occasions the right of 
recognizing a gentleman, or of giving him the cut 
direct. That is, a gentleman, unless so familiar as 
to make it a matter of course, or of no consequence, 
is never the first to salute a lady. It is her right 
to bow to him in the street, and he stops, raises or 
entirely removes his hat, and returns her salutation. 
It is her right to offer to shake hands, and not his. 
It is her right to dismiss him — to give the signal to 
leave, if making a call together. He offers service, 
which she may accept or refuse ; but in all else she 
takes the initiative, and in this, unless he have the 
good fortune to anticipate her wishes. 

The common practice in this country of introduc- 
ing everybody to everybody, without regard to any 
fitness of person or circumstances, comes very near 
being a nuisance. 

Then comes the promiscuous shaking of hands. 
No personal contact should ever be forced upon 
any person. There are those, the pressure of whose 
hands may be a comfort, a pleasure, a delight ; but 
there are more, perhaps, whom we should never 
willingly touch. I may ha^e much respect for a 
man, and yet not wish to touch him. What a bar- 
barity, then, are these universal hand-shakings, and 
how utterly meaningless they become ! That which 
is given indiscriminately to every one, can have no 
special value for any. 

An undesired introduction is an impertinence, and 
may be an insult. A blundering, good natured fel- 



104 INTRODUCTION. 

low goes about introducing everybody whose names 
he can remember, without regard to character or 
fitness. It may be a scamp I would not tolerate, or 
an enemy who had injured me in the tenderest point. 

An introduction should never be given without 
the knowledge of the persons introduced, and their 
request or permission, expressed or implied ; espe- 
cially, a gentleman should never be introduced to a 
lady, without the certainty that it will be agreeable 
to her. 

The gentleman is usually introduced to the lady : 
" Miss Banks, allow me to introduce Mr. Johnson." 

When there is much difference in age or position, 
the word "present" is used A lady may be in- 
troduced to a gentleman much her superior in age 
or station. 

Gentlemen and ladies in equal positions are mu- 
tually introduced to each other: "Mr. Barlow, let 
me make you acquainted with Mr. Cobb j Mr. 
Cobb, Mr. Barlow." 

Must you shake hands when introduced ? If it 
is a merely formal introduction, a bow is better. If 
a superior extends his hands, or a lady offers bers, 
it would be an affront not to accept it. 

In shaking hands, let it be a full and cordial 
shake — not a careless touch, a cold extension of 
two fingers ; but, on the other hand, by all means 
avoid the convulsive grips with which some strong- 
handed people torture their acquaintances. 

Press a ladies' hand heartily, but respectfully and 
delicately. Do not drop it like a hot potato ; nor 
detain it a moment longer than is needful. 

A bow ; a shaking of the hand ; a salutation, or 
address of ceremony, should always be done with a 
certain easy deliberation : not languidly — not indif- 



ADDRESS. 



105 



ferently — and by no means hurriedly and indis- 
tinctly. 

Do not be troublesome and ridiculous by an over 
politeness, out of time and place, blocking a door 
with bows and protestations when you ought to 
enter at once. 




106 LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION'. 

There is a certain easy self-possession, a quiet 
gentlemanly, or lady-like manner, that has a special 
charm. It is the ease of self-possession, and entire 
certainty of one's position. It is the absence of all 
fiustration. It may be the result of an honest sim- 
plicity of character • of a union of firmness and self- 
esteem, or of a careful training. Whatever it is, 
the quality is admirable. It is a matter of nerves, 
perhaps — but nerves are susceptible of discipline. 

A letter of introduction is more important than 
a personal presentation. Be careful how you give, 
and also how you present and receive them. 

The letter should never be sealed, nor contain any- 
thing but a brief statement of its own special busi- 
ness. If you have anything else to say, write it in 
another letter, and send by another conveyance. 
(For form, see Correspondence.) 

When a letter of introduction is for some business 
purpose, making an early interview necessary, it 
may be delivered in person. In such a #ase, send 
it in by the servant, or attendant, with your card ; 
and wait until the gentleman or lady to whom it is 
directed has read it, and sends or comes for you. 

But the usual course with letters of society is to 
send them, with your card, to the persons to whom 
they are addressed. Then you wait for them to 
call upon you, to invite you to dinner, or to extend 
such hospitalities as the case demands. This is 
when they are addressed to a gentleman ; if to a 
lady, you must call, send in the letter, and give her 
time to read it. 

You may expect to be treated according to the 
estimation of the friend who has introduced you. 
If neglected, it is his affair, not yours, and you have 
no right to complain. 



SALUTATION. 107 

But it is a grand mistake to suppose that there 
can be no acquaintance, or recognition, without a 
formal introduction. That a gentleman and lady 
should sit side by side for hours, in a rail car, not 
daring to speak to each other, because some offi- 
cious person has not gone through the ceremony of 
pronouncing their names to each other, is ludicrous- 
ly absurd. Your knowing merely that a lady is 
called Miss Blossom, and her being made aware that 
you rejoice in the patronymic of Brown, does not 
change your relations in any essential manner ; yet 
you sit, dumb, stupid, looking, acting, and feeling 
like a fool, because somebody, who really knows the 
lady no better than you do, has not introduced you I 

It is true that you should not intrude upon a 
person who does not desire it ; but a salutation is 
no intrusion. Any gentleman has a right to say 
" Good morning" to a lady • and if she be a lady, 
she will give a courteous reply, either a cordial and 
inviting one, which will open the way to a further 
conversation, or a polite and dignified one, signify- 
ing that she prefers to be loft one. If her reply is 
simply " Good morning, sir," with no further obser- 
vation, you have done your duty, and may pull on 
your traveling cap and make your preparations for 
a nap ; but if it is accompanied by a smile of greet- 
ing, a friendly look, or an additional observation, it 
is introduction enough for the time being. 

The great bar to the freedom and happiness of 
social intercourse, is the selfish ownership of per- 
sons, and mutual espionage over each other's con- 
duct. This is a bar to all general civility, and when 
carried to an extreme, is the destruction of all soci- 
ety. In Turkey, Egypt, and the Barbary States, 
no man ever speaks, nor even looks at any woman, 



108 INTRODUCTION. 

but his own wife or slave. It is not permitted even 
to make a man's family the subject of conversation. 
Two brothers, or most intimate friends, may reside 
near each other for years without ever having seen 
or spoken of each other's wives. 

Our rules are not so severe ; yet even here, when 
a stranger speaks ever so politely and respectfully 
to a lady, it is apt to be construed into an insult. 
Every day, in this city of New York, I see charm- 
ing women, on the street, in the omnibuses and 
cars, at the fashionable restaurants, or in the par- 
lors of the hotels, but I do not speak to them. 
They might add much to the happiness of my life. 
I might not be a disagreeable acquaintance, per- 
haps ; but as there are many men who fancy that 
they own these women, or are at least bound to pro- 
tect them from a man whose name they do not 
know, I must respect the social usage. 

But when the rubicon of an introduction is 
passed ; when you are fairly registered members of 
the same social group, then the jealousy and selfish 
exclusiveism of Turk and Moor must give place to 
the convenances of polished society. In public, at a 
ball or party, affianced lovers must not be too atten- 
tive to each other, and husbands and wives are for 
the time strangers. The very objects of society, 
variety in life, and extension of sympathy, demand 
a certain degree of freedom. A married man pays 
his court to other ladies ; his wife accepts the atten- 
tions of other gentlemen ; and the married couple 
who should be seen dancing or talking much with 
each other, would become subjects of general ridicule. 
Here, in New York, husbands and wives do not 
even go to the same parties, unless they prefer to 
do so. It is presumed that they have enough of 



FORMS AND PRIVILEGES. 109 

each, other's society in private ; and each is free to 
follow his or her own attractions in regard to social 
intercourse and enjoyments. 

In the same way, and for the same reasons, a 
lady is mistress of her own house, and presides over 
its hospitalities. The husband may give dinner 
parties ; but soirees and receptions belong to the 
lady. She receives calls, and invites whoever she 
pleases. The husband, if he comes at all, comes 
the same as any other guest, with no privileges ; and 
assuredly with less attention from the lady of the 
house than any other person. In all this there 
is no immorality ; it is simply what good taste de- 
mands. 

Good taste, politeness, a deference to the rights 
and feelings of others, requires that we refrain 
from the assertion or manifestation of any exclusive 
right or privilege, in the presence of another. 

It is for this reason that a man does not eat or 
drink without asking his neighbor to partake. 

It is for this reason that you never open and 
read a letter in company without the apology of 
asking permission. 

It is for this reason that all fondlings and famili- 
arities before company are improper. You have no 
right to do anything which any other person has 
not an equal right to do, with the lady's permis- 
sion. The assertion, therefore, of any exclusive 
right to the caresses of your wife, or mistress, in 
the presence of others, is a gross indelicacy. 

Consequently, every appearance of this kind is 
carefully avoided. At table, husband and wife sit 
as far as possible from each other, and husbands 
aud wives are separated and take other partners. 
Consequently, in going to or from the table, and in 



110 



RATHER OVERDOING IT. 



walks and rides, husband and wife are separated. 
Society is the enlargement, the absorption, and, for 
the time being, the breaking up of all private and 
exclusive engagements. For a similar reason, tete- 
a-tetes, or the private conversation of two persons, 
exclusive and long continued, should be avoided. 
There are opportunities enough for private love- 
making, courtship, &c. If a gentleman wishes to 
Bee a lady alone, let him make a special visit for 
that purpose ; but in public, all talents, all charms, 
all the intelligence, and wit, and sentiment of con- 
versation ; all the graces and accomplishments are 
the property of all, or at least of the group of 
those who are attracted to each other by similarity 
and sympathy. 




RATHER OVERDOING IT. 



CIVILIZED GALLANTRY. 



Ill 



Woman is, or rather, perhaps, we should say, is 
to be, in the future, the social queen. All genuine 
gallantry now gives her that recognition. All gen- 
uine politeness, all true social refinement is based on 
such recognition. The man capable of brutality to 
a woman — if, indeed, our friends the beasts are not 
libelled by such a phrase — is lost to humanity, and 
cannot possess its highest perfection in the charac- 
ter of a true gentleman. The native Australian, 
when he wants a wife, knocks her down, and drags 
her off. The first manly achievement of a Hotten- 
tot is to whip his mother. That record of British 
eavageism, known as the common law, allows a hus- 
band to beat his wife with moderation. 




CIVILIZED GALLANTRY. 



112 MUTUAL INFLUENCE OF THE SEXES. 

Both sexes participate in the courtesies of a re- 
fined society, and both are necessary to its complete- 
ness. Men, alone, meet to do business, to talk poli- 
tics, to play games, to drink and smoke ; very often 
to both do and say many things which they would 
not do in the presence of the other sex. So women, 
it is currently reported, meet to talk scandal over 
their tea ; and there are those who have the auda- 
city to aver that their private discussions are not 
elevated in character by the absence of gentlemen's 
society. But this is probably a slander. 

Yet, there is no question of the refining, elevating, 
beautifying influence of each sex upon the other. 
Happy is the boy who has sisters in his home : 
happy the girl whose first love is given to a noble 
brother. 

The spirit of the age favors an increase in the 
freedom of the intercourse of the sexes with each 
other. Shutting up women in harems, or convents, 
or boarding schools, away from all manly influence, 
example, and sympathy, does not tend to improve- 
ment of the female character, nor the protection of 
female virtue ; which, the world is beginning to see, 
is something not preservable by bolts and bars, or 
any of the usual appliances — which must exist in the 
soul, and which may be defined as a woman's power 
to protect herself from false associations. This ca- 
pacity is not best acquired in isolation, and conse- 
quent ignorance of the masculine character. 

We have schools and even colleges, now estab- 
lished in this country for the purpose of educating 
both sexes together, giviug to each, the advan- 
tages of the improving influence of the other. The 
time is not distant when the separation of the two 
sexes during some of the most beautiful and im- 



BOYS AND GIRLS IN SOCIETY. 113 

proving seasons of their lives, will be considered a 
gross and cruel barbarism. It tends now to make 
man sensual, unmannerly, and repulsive : it gives 
an equally false character to woman, producing an 
unnatural romanticism, a false coquetry, or an utter 
heartlessness, matching the worst characteristics of 
man. 

The best society, the most natural, the most re- 
fined and enjoyable, is one composed of both sexes, 
and, where the company is large, of a considerable 
variety in ages. Intelligent Europeans find Ameri- 
can society excessively insipid, because it is com- 
posed almost wholly of green boys, just out of col- 
lege, whose chief accomplishments are dancing, 
talking slang, making puns, and drinking champagne 
wine ; and young girls, just " out " of their board- 
ing schools or nurseries, kept apart, and in total 
ignorance of each other ; — these two classes rush 
together in a whirl of sensuous and animal excite- 
ment, which has in it scarcely a single element of 
a true society. % 

The true man of society must have had a certain 
degree of experience. His mind should be stored 
with observation of life. Boys are very nice fel- 
lows, but apt to be green, shallow, empty, forward, 
and presuming. Girls are better, no doubt ; there 
is always something angelic in a pretty girl; but 
these are liable to be rather tame, or dumb, or pert, 
or silly, or romantic, or stupid — to have some little 
foible that experience will correct. 

But alas ! the moment when the woman rounds 
into the fullness of her life and beauty, — when she 
is becoming a truly valuable member of society, and 
worthy of the attention and adoration of the circle 
to which she belongs, she is snatched away — mar- 
8 



114 MARRIAGE AND JEALOUSY. 

ried oft — monopolized by some selfish, jealous hus- 
band, and sinks at once into the housekeeper and 
nurse of the civilized family. Her loss to society is 
utter and irreparable. If she goes into company at 
long intervals, it is with the meek, subdued air of 
the married woman. The mark of ownership is 
upon her. Her freedom is gone. The gay belle, 
whose lively sallies were the life of the circle — who 
danced, and sung, and talked as well as she could, 
is no longer attractive, and no longer attracts. As 
she has lost her charm for society, of course society 
loses its charm for her. She stays at home ; and 
the men whom she might attract and delight also 
stay at home, or go to the club, or smoke, drink, 
and read the newspapers at some coffee house. 

This is all bad and all wrong. If society has any 
real value as a means of happiness, old and young, 
married and single, should enjoy its advantages. 
The experience and wisdom of age should temper 
the innocence and hilarity of youth. One of the 
most charming sights I ever saw was a quadrille 
sett at a New York ball, at which danced three 
generations ; and I thought the most truly elegant 
and fascinating person in the sett was one of the 
grandmothers. 

The first necessity of such a society is freedom — 
not freedom to do any wrong, but freedom to enjoy 
every right. When a man and woman marry, must 
they by that act become social outlaws ? They do, 
if they watch each other with a selfish, grasping, 
avaricious jealousy. 

When a lady says to her lover or husband, " My 
dear !" — the sort of emphatic my dear I so full of 
meaning — " didn't you hold Mrs. Thompson's hand 
rather longer than was needful in that last quad- 



THE RULE ABSOLUTE. 115 

rille ?" or when the husband says, " The fact is, my 
love ! this waltzing is all very fine, but I can't say 
I like to see that Captain Dapper holding you quite 
so close !" there is a mutual espionage and assertion 
of. ownership that must destroy all social enjoyment. 
The gentleman swears, to himself, of course, and 
resolves to play billiards ; the lady sulks, not alto- 
gether to herself, but determines that she will not 
go into company, if she is to be watched and criti- 
cised by a jealous monster of a ! — a ! — a J Oh ! 
(Smelling salts, et cetera.) 

Good manners, or an absolute and honest regard 
to the rights of" every individual, become a social 
necessity therefore ; and whatever interferes with 
the existence and enjoyment of society, may be set 
down as bad behavior. 

The rule is this : When a man goes into society 
he renounces all claims and relations of a private 
and personal character. He is no longer the hus- 
band and private property of some lady, and taboo 
therefore to every other ; and his wife is as free as 
in the palmiest hour of her independent belle-hood. 

In a true society, there are no husbands and 
wives, no lovers and mistresses, no owners and pro- 
perty with ear marks or finger marks, no masters 
and slaves ; but free men and women of society, 
who meet in a certain sphere of relation, to con- 
tribute their utmost to each other's enjoyment. 

In this society there are certain convenient for- 
malities and observances, which we shall now briefly 
notice, giving the reasons for them where they are 
reasonable, and otherwise simply stating the fact. 

An introduction for a dance, or at a call, or when 
persons are thrown together so that it cannot well 
be avoided, is only for the time, and gives no privi- 



116 INTRODUCTIONS. 

lege of acquaintance afterward. This rule is to 
protect people from those they may not wish to 
associate with. 

Do not offer your hand first, if you are the one 
introduced to another. It is the privilege of the 
lady, or the person of superior age or position, to 
offer you the hand, if they wish to do so. Never 
put yourself in the false position of asking such 
favors. It is as bad as begging an invitation. 

At a public ball, here, you require a formal in- 
troduction, to allow you to ask a lady to dance ; 
but at a private party, the fact of your being an 
invited guest is sufficient introduction for the ordi- 
nary purposes. In the first case, tickets are bought, 
and yon may meet with disreputable persons ; in 
the latter, the hostess is responsible for the charac- 
ter of all whom she invites. 

But this character. If you dance with a man, 
he must be a gentleman, and know how to dance ; 
but as you are not to love or marry him, and need 
not even recognize him afterwards as an acquaint- 
ance, you need not insist on knowing all his special- 
ities and antecedents. 

When any one, and especially a lady, requires 
attention or assistance, it may be rendered without 
your knowing her name. The man who hesitated 
to help a lady who had fallen in the street because 
he had not been introduced, is but little removed 
from a man who would refuse the geniality and 
sympathy of common politeness for the same rea- 
son. A sailor, seeing a lady standing on the brink 
of a wide, full gutter, which she wished to cross, 
gallantly took her in his arms, and set her over on 
the opposite curb stone. As Jack had done the 
thing handsomely, and in the spirit of genuine 



SOCIAL EQUITY. lit 

politeness, he expected a thank you, or at least a 
smile ; but instead, he received a volley of sharp 
abuse from the feminine aristocrat whose gentility 
he had outraged. " Oh ! avast there," cried Jack, 
" I'll make it all right again f and he took her up, 
and, despite her struggles, very carefully placed her 
where he had found her, and went on his way re- 
joicing. 

For every civility, or attempted civility, give the 
recognition of your thanks. Let, at least, a smile 
and a nod, if no more, reward every offer of service ; 
if it is only passing a sixpence in an omnibus, equity 
demands that it have its reward. The lack of such 
appreciation in women discourages politeness in 
men. Why should they trouble themselves to be 
civil when their efforts are so little valued ? 

As the exchange of commodities on principles of 
equity and reciprocity makes business or commerce, 
it is the exchange of good offices, kindness, and 
efforts to please and make happy, that constitutes 
society. This is social equity, and the constant cir- 
culation of good offices, graces, urbanities, and all 
kindly civilities that makes our social life. Avoid 
its stagnation, its congestion, its famine, and its 
disease. 

Dress for occasions, and observe local customs. 
If you go into a Mohammedan mosque, take off 
your shoes ; if into a Christian church, remove 
your hat. This is never to be worn in the house, 
unless for a moment, when you just come in or are 
preparing to leave. It is seldom to be worn where 
there is other shelter, in the presence of ladies. In- 
deed, a gentleman of the old school always takes 
off his hat when he meets ladies in the street ; and 
if they stop to speak to him, he holds it in his hand 



118 SALUTATIONS. 

in the most graceful manner he can command, until 
requested as many as three times to put it on. Our 
modern beaux are not so particular, and think it 
sufficient to just raise the hat, without removing it. 

In shaking hands, it is not necessary to remove 
your gloves. Why should two persons work and 
tug away to get off two well-fitting gloves, just to 
ceremoniously bring their bare hands together ? If 
the person you shake hands with has no gloves, re- 
move yours if you can readily ; but you need not 
say, " Excuse my glove," unless very much pushed 
for something to say. 

And — apropos — always have something to say. 
Let it also be something more than "Good morn- 
ing !" or " How d'ye do ?" or some remark about the 
weather. There are a thousand genial, kindly, 
sprightly things to be said to every one. Of course 
you need not say quite a thousand at once ; but 
keep some for another person or opportunity. 

Where you meet a lady, or a person to whom 
you owe respect, do not stop to detain them. If 
you wish to say anything beyond mere salutations, 
turn, and obtaining leave, and making sure it is not 
an intrusion, walk the way they are going. 

But beware. It may be an assignation ; a private 
call of charity or otherwise ; she may expect mo- 
mently to meet a friend. For twenty good reasons 
you may be ale trop — that is, one too many — "your 
room better than your company." If people only 
dared to be frank — there would be less danger. If 
there were more social freedom, there would be still 
less. In the city, it is a good rule to go no farther 
than the corner of the street, and raise your hat, 
with a polite bow on leaving. 

As you never come into the presence of any per- 



PARTY HOURS. 119 

eon, whose existence and social relations to you you 
choose to recognize, without a salutation, either by 
word or gesture ; so never leave any company or 
person in an abrupt and unceremonious manner. 
You meet and part, enter a room and leave it, with 
some proper manifestation of human interest and 
relationship. The exception to this is, that when 
obliged to leave a party, before its breaking up, 
when it can be done without notice or disturbance, 
it is best to take French leave — to go out quietly, 
so as to make no ceremony and no regrets. Take 
the opportunity to make a quiet congee to your host 
or hostess, and slip away unperceived. Your for- 
mal leave taking might be interpreted into a dislike 
of the company, or a signal for others to go, and is 
needless. 

Never go earlier, nor stay later than is customary. 
At a dinner or supper, or when invited for any spe- 
cial purpose requiring your assistance, as when an 
authoress is to read her poem, or a ton vivant gives 
a dinner, be absolutely punctual. But it is very 
annoying to go to a party an hour before the rest 
of the company ; very troublesome to stay after 
others have left. 

In cities, parties commence at eight, nine, and ten 
o'clock, ending at twelve, one, and two, or three. 
People who dine at six, and sit three hours at table, 
can scarcely get to a party before ten. 

When you, a gentleman, meet an acquaintance, 
walking with a lady you do not know, you cannot 
stop to speak to him ; a nod or any familiar recog- 
nition would be disrespectful. You can only raise 
your hat in the most formal manner. If you know 
the lady and not the gentleman, you must only 
return her salutation, if she chooses to make one. 



120 WALKING WITH A LADY. 

which, if you are a particularly good-looking per* 
son, and there has been no very recent quarrel, she 
will do. 

If a lady with whom you are walking, recognizes 
a stranger to you, and receives his salute, you re- 
turn it, not for yourself, but for the lady. 

Well — which hand will you use in raising the hat ? 
Both — not both at once ; but sometimes one, some- 
times the other — the same as you sometimes offer 
one arm or hand, and sometimes the other. It is a 
question of position, and grace of grouping. All 
these cases are governed, either by evident utilities, 
or by esthetic rules. Raise the hat with the hand 
farthest from the person saluted. If the lady is 
passing at your right, use the left hand. It pre- 
sents the front of your figure. If you use the right, 
she gets a side view, and you are concealed by your 
arm. 

In walking with a lady, you offer your arm ; you 
gracefully present it, or say, " Will you accept my 
arm ?" It does not follow that she will take it. 
If she need support, or protection ; if in a crowd 
and liable to be separated ; if contact is agreeable 
to her ; if it is the custom and expected by others, 
she will thank you and take it. Take it fully, and 
handsomely, and not as if she were afraid to touch 
it. But when it is warm, or both hands are en- 
gaged, or it looks or feels too particular, she is en- 
tirely free to decline, thanking you for the offer, and 
giving some reason for not accepting it. 

Which arm ? The one best adapted to her use, 
A lady has first the place of honor, which is the 
right ; and where crowds are passing, and all " keep 
to the right," that also is the place of safety. But 
giving a lady the left arm may give her the inside 



ON A STAIRCASE 121 

of the walk, which is her right, and is usually the 
most elevated. It also leaves your right hand free, 
to defend her if need be. The right side is the most 
respectful — the left the most tender. In the dance, 
a gentleman always places his partner on his right ; 
but when they take places in the dance for life — in 
the marriage ceremony — he stands at the right. 

On a staircase broad enough for two to ascend 
abreast, the place of honor is the farthest from the 
bannister, as being the safest. 

Where a couple do not go up or down stairs 
abreast, which goes first ? It is man-of-war eti- 
quette that everybody descends from the deck be- 
fore the commander. If a gentleman goes down 
before a lady, he will have less risk of treading on 
her dress. If he go up foremost, in nine cases out 
of ten it will be better, since the lady may have 
large feet, or thick ankles, or some other reason for 
wishing to protect her lower extremities from obser- 
vation ; and when this is the case, the dragging, 
slouching way in which women pull themselves up 
stairs, is very unpleasant to witness. 

Moreover, a gentleman should very carefully 
avoid seeing, or, if that is impossible, seeming to 
see what ladies wish to conceal. What they should 
conceal, and how much they should allow to be 
seen, is a matter for each one to decide. Fashion 
does decide ; but feeling should. Putting a lady 
into a low dress, when she would greatly prefer a 
high one, or vice versa, is an outrage on her per- 
sonality. 

A gentleman may innocently, and it is to be pre- 
sumed, advantageously, observe and admire so .much 
of the lady's figure as is submitted to his observa- 
tion. This, at the present period, in many cases, 



122 EQUITY IN POLITENESS. 

includes the head, arms, and bust, with slight and 
unimportant reservations. Having no prejudices on 
this subject, and believing the entire human form, 
when well developed, to be a pure and lovely object, 
we have no rules to give, but leave each lady to 
her own ideas of beauty and propriety. 

In accosting a friend in public, do not call him 
by name, so as to be heard by others. Eew things 
are more annoying. For good reasons, a man may 
not wish to be known. Make all recognitions and 
addresses as quietly as possible. 

Observe a strict equity in returning salutations. 
If a man takes off his hat you must do the same. 
Be in no one's debt for anything so easy to repay 
as civility. Washington was a superb gentleman of 
the old school, and he would take off his hat to a 
negro. 

When you speak to a man whose age, character, 
or position entitle him to particular respect, take off 
your hat. 

In passing persons frequently, you are not to 
salute every time. Once is sufficient. 

Avoid an incivility or rudeness, even to your 
bitterest enemy. There may be a rupture so pub- 
lic, that politeness would be a glaring hypocrisy ; a 
man may be so infamous that you must ignore his 
existence ; but the general rule is to treat persons 
you dislike with a careful but distant, formal and 
chilling politeness. In society, we leave out mere 
personalities as much as possible. If we forget our 
likes, we may also forget our dislikes. If we seem 
for the time indifferent to those we most love, we 
may .also do the same to those we most hate. A 
person disagreeable to me may be very pleasant to 
others ; but uo one is required to tolerate what is 
intolerable. 



CARDS. 123 

Every lady and gentleman living in a considera- 
te town or city, is obliged to be provided with 
cards. These have their fashions, but a gentleman's 
card may best be of a medium size, perfectly plain, 
without nourish or gilding, and if unglazed all the 
better, with his name engraved. It may be written, 
but not printed with the ordinary type. Why ? 
Because it looks " poor and common." I can give 
no better reason. If you write well, it is as well 
to give your autograph. A lady's card may be 
larger and finer. 

If you call on a person who is " engaged," or 
"not at home," leave your card. If there are 
several persons you wished to see, leave a card for 
each, or desire the servant to present your compli- 
ments to them severally. 

All visits are to be returned, personally, or by 
card, just as every letter is to be answered. In 
visiting at a hotel, do not enter your friend's room 
until your card has announced you. If not at 
home, send your card to his or her room, with your 
address written upon it, as well as the name of the 
person for whom it is intended, to avoid mistakes. 

When about to be absent for some time, it is 
expected that you will make a farewell visit to your 
acquaintances. If you do not see them, leave your 
card with the English iniiiajs, T. T. L., or the 
French P. P. C. upon it ; but if you do not speak 
French, " To take leave," is quite as good as "Pour 
prendre congee." On your return, you are entitled to 
receive the first visit. If you neglect to call on any 
one, it is taken as a signal that you drop the acquaint- 
ance. This is no offence, but only your convenience 
and your right. You have just as good a right to 
drop an old acquaintance as to make a new one. In 



124 MORNING CALLS. 

each case, you have first to consult your own con- 
venience and happiness. 

Morning calls are the small change of social com- 
merce : parties and assemblies the heavy drafts. 
A call is not less than ten, nor more than twenty 
minutes in town : in the country a little longer 
Yisiting is quite out of fashion : people call where 
they are acquainted, or desire to be — they visit 
where and when they are invited, and general invi- 
tations, if ever given, mean nothing, and are never 
accepted. You may take twenty minutes of my 
time, or leave your card ; but you have no right to 
come unexpectedly, and when I am unprepared, and 
inflict yourself upon me for half a day, breaking up 
all my arrangements, spoiling my pleasures, taxing 
time and patience. Please don't do it. 

The time for a morning call is between eleven and 
two o'clock. Breakfast is out of the way, and you 
leave ladies time to dress for dinner. But if your 
friends are so fashionable as to dine at five or six, 
you can call from twelve to three. When people 
dine at one o'clock, call at twelve, or perhaps it 
would be better to make your morning call at three. 
Morning, in fashionable parlance, means any time 
before dinner. 

The conversation at a morning call must be light 
enough not to disturb digestion, or take away the 
appetite. There is not time for earnest discussions, 
and they are dangerous. Talk of the weather, par- 
ties, music, and the agreeable little nothings that are 
only the vehicle of whatever amount of sentiment 
may be proper to entertain. 

Ladies, I believe, have the habit of kissing each 
other on all occasions of meeting and parting, with 
great fervor. I must be permitted to observe that 



PROMISCUOUS KISSING. 



125 



promiscuous kissing, either by persons of the same, 
or of different sexes, is not in good taste. I am 
aware that in France and Germany men kiss each 
other, as women do here. But the kiss seems to 
me too sacred an affectional expression to be used 
with so much promiscuity. We should be choice 
of all association and contact, or personal intimacy, 
and particularly of an expression of so intimate a 
character. 

The custom or fashion is bad, because it compels 
us to give an expression of tenderness to indifferent 
or even repulsive persons. An indifferent fashion 
may be submitted to, but a positively bad one — an 
immoral one, like this, which violates the natural 
instincts, may be rejected. It is the veto power, 
which nature and good taste exercise over the im- 
positions of custom. 

It is never bad manners to mildly but firmly de- 
cline to do what is distasteful to you. Good man- 
ners can never be bad morals, nor the reverse. 

If, in making a call, you find the person you in- 
tended to see absent, but are received by others, 
introduce yourself, and mention the person you 
called to see. 

If, in calling late, for an evening visit, where 
you are well assured that so much of your society 
will be agreeable, you find a party assembled, enter 
as if there were none, but make your stay very 
short. Let no ordinary " pressing " induce you to 
remain, since it is evident that, had you been want- 
ed, you would have been invited. To seem to beg 
an invitation in this way, puts you in an awkward 
predicament ; but to really intrude yourself would 
be worthy of a Hottentot. You might be very 
welcome at one time, and not at another. 



126 VISITS OF CEREMONY. 

When you have attended, or been invited to a 
party or dinner which you would have attended, 
call within a week. 

In a morning call or visit of ceremony, take your 
hat and cane, if you carry one, into the room, so 
that the lady will not think you intend to spend the 
day. If she asks for your hat, which is equivalent 
to an invitation to remain some time, without cere- 
mony, you will retain it, unless you accept her invi- 
tation. At an evening visit, or dinner party, or 
when the call is more friendly than formal, and may 
be extended according to circumstances, leave hat 
and cane in the hall. Give them to the servant, or 
place them on the hat rack. 

In receiving and entertaining company, which is 
the chief employment of a fashionable lady, the 
great art is to be perfectly easy, quiet, and self- 
possessed, and by that means to make everybody 
feel so who comes near you. 

Morning visitors are not to be introduced to each 
other, unless you are sure that it will be mutually 
agreeable. At a party, endeavor to have only 
those who will harmonize with each other. You 
can scarcely commit a greater social misdemeanor 
than to bring people together who must make each 
other uncomfortable. 

Be very impartial in your attentions, paying most 
to those who need most — to strangers or timid per- 
sons, who cannot so well take care of themselves. 
If any person considers himself, or is considered in- 
ferior to others, pay him particular attention, at 
the same time do it with delicacy and discrimination. 
An awkward and bashful person is not to be brought 
into notice and made uncomfortable. Bring per- 
sons together who are suited to each other, either 



VISITORS. 



121 



by similarity or opposition. A man from Green- 
land, for instance, would be glad to compare notes 
with one from Iceland, or Spitzbergen ; but he 
would also be very much interested in conversing 
with one from Borneo or Brazil. People agree well 
who are very much alike or quite different. They 
clash when near, but not when together. 

Avoid all appearance of anxiety or trouble, ana 
while attentive to every want, seem to have nothing 
but enjoyment of the society around you. 

Visitors should be attended to the door by your- 
self ; or, better, by the servant who admits them. 

Conform, as far as possible, to the tastes of your 
visitors, and make it a rule never to invite a gen- 
tleman, and more particularly a lady, unless you 
can be quite satisfied with her. 




MAKING HERSEU AT HOME. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE ETIQUETTE OF THE TABLE. 

N TEMPERANCE, 

or the inordi- 
nate use of in- 
toxicating li' 
quors, is a vice, 
to the evils of 
which this coun- 
try is fully awa- 
kened ; but it 
is not yet de- 
cided as an ab- 
solute and in- 
controvertible 
truth, that the 
use of stimu- 
lants with food, 
or taken on convivial occasions, is in all cases, and 
of necessity, injurious. "We shall consider it an 
open question, and speak of the custom of drinking, 
as allowed in polite society, of pure wines and in 
moderate quantities, as we find it, without either 
approval or commendation. With this introduction 
we proceed to discuss the etiquette of the table, 
which for various reasons is among the most im- 
portant and indispensable of the usages of polite 
society. 




HOSPITALITY OF EATING. 



129 



When people meet, their first impulse is to seek 
for some bond of sympathy between them. They 
try to find something which they can unite upon ; 
and the most universal thing is eating and drinking. 
From the most savage state to the highest civiliza- 
tion, eating is a mark of friendship and a manifesta- 
tion of hospitality. Enter the tent of an Arab, and 
when you have eaten with him, you are safe in his 
protection — safe if you have been his bitterest foe. 
But in civilization, the man who asks you to drink 
or to dine, may be plotting to swindle you. 

Still, eating together is friendly. Few people 
like to eat alone, and in this country we eat much 
in company. We delight in the long tables d'hote, 
and in public dinners ; yet one of the most trying 
things to a novice in society is to dine in an elegant 
company. We shall give a few observations on 
eating, and the manners and customs of the table. 

There is a certain fitness and character to be 
observed respecting what you eat. Coarse people 
are coarse livers. Refined people eat delicately. 
We do not expect a lady to eat beefsteak and 
onions, washed down with beer or porter. She will 
scarcely eat pork or drink whiskey. The flesh of 
the hog, unless as ham, finds its way to few fashion- 
able tables ; and as there are many persons with 
strong aversions to the animal, besides Jews and 
Mohammedans, it is best to dispense with it as much 
as possible. The most refined people I know dis- 
pense with the flesh of animals entirely, from 
esthetic, moral, and hygienic considerations. But, 
as I am not writing a work on physiology or dietet- 
ics, I will not discuss the point. 

It is well, however, to consult the tastes of your 
guests, and, if it can be avoided, not to offend their 
9 



130 A DINNER PARTY. 

prejudices. On the other hand, people who differ 
from the majority in their tastes and appetites, 
mast not be too bigoted and censorious. 

If the quality of food is to be considered, so is 
the quantity. To eat ravenously involves, eating 
fast, which is inelegant. To eat a large quantity 
gives the impression of grossness, animality, or dis- 
ease. Perhaps the affectation of etheriality by 
romantic young ladies, who dine on a chicken's 
wing and two peas, and then make up for it by a 
visit to the pantry, is as bad. Eat moderately and 
slowly, nearly as others of the company eat. If 
you finish too quickly, others will feel hurried. If 
you dally, you make them wait. 

A dinner party usually consists of about a dozen 
persons or more, according to the accommodations 
and acquaintance of the host and hostess. 

When an invitation is given for a dinner, answer 
at once. They wish to fill the table, and if you 
cannot accept, to have time to invite some one in 
your place. Your answer is to be sent to the lady 
of the house, unless it is a bachelor party. 

A dinner is always full dress, whatever that may 
happen to be. Formerly, gentlemen scrupulously 
wore black or blue, dress or strait-bodied coats, 
white vests, white or black cravats, white kid 
gloves, black pantaloons, and pumps. But as white 
cravats are worn by clergymen and butlers, and as 
the waiters are put in white vests, and fashion tole- 
rates dress boots and frock coats, it is hard to say 
what a gentleman's full dress really is — pink or 
buff waistcoats, and purple or lavender cravats, we 
believe. But as these fancies change, you have 
only to follow the mode at a respectful distance. 



A PROSPECTIVE FASHION. 131 

A lady's full dress is anything rich enough, ele- 
gant enough, and cut low enough in the bosom and 
short enough in the arms. Full dress with ladies is 
at the present writing as little dress as they can 
possibly feel comfortable in wearing. It varies in 
length and amplitude ; but in the upper portion it 
shows such a persevering determination to descend, 
that we may expect to see what the Comic World 
has given as a retrospective view of 




PROSPECTIVE FASHION. 



132 THE COMPANY AT TABLE. 

Be punctual when there is eating to be done. 
The dinner must not be served until every guest has 
arrived. Who would dare to face a dozen hungry- 
men and women, and be responsible for a spoiled 
dinner? At a party, ball, concert, &c, punctual- 
ity is of less consequence. Arrive at least fifteen 
minutes before the time ; half an hour is better if 
you have come a distance, and need ablutions or 
other preparations, for which there should always 
be provided the necessary facilities. 

When the servant announces that dinner is served, 
the master of the house presents his arm to the lady 
who, from age or position, is entitled to precedence. 
As ladies are not always explicit about their ages, 
and as our aristocratic distinctions are not very well 
defined, we may have some difficulty in this respect. 
As the " master of the feast" leads off the " first 
lady," he will do well to invite some gentleman to 
follow him, who will offer his arm to the lady 
hostess. Each gentleman then attends some lady, 
and all assemble around the table. If the dining 
room is on the same floor, give the left arm ; if you 
are to go down stairs, give the lady the wall. 

In some cases, the place of each guest is desig- 
nated by a card, with his or her name written upon 
It, beside the plate. There is much skill to be dis- 
played in this arrangement. The lady to be par- 
ticularly honored sits at the right-hand of the host, 
the gentleman at the left of the hostess. Then 
ladies and gentlemen are arranged so as to separate 
married couples as far as possible, of which the ex- 
treme example is the host and hostess, who are 
opposite each other, and so as to place each man 
between and vis a vis agreeable women. 

You are expected to be very attentive to the 



TABLE MANNERS. 133 

lady at your right ; to pass anything needful to the 
lady at your left, and to be very amiable to the 
lady opposite. Bat as fashionable tables are well 
provided with servants, a butler to carve, and a 
waiter behind nearly every chair, there is little labor, 
and should be no officiousness. 

Sit firmly in your chair, without lolling, leaning 
back, dramming, or any gaucherie whatever. If a 
grace is to be asked, give it suitable reverence. 
Quakers, before eating, make a silent pause, for 
each person to ask his own blessing. When a cler- 
gyman is present, it is a kind of professional insult 
not to invite him to say grace. With many per- 
sons, habitually irreligious, some form of this kind 
is adhered to. It is good manners to pay a certain 
respect to all customs. 

After grace, or when ready for eating, take your 
napkin from its ring, or your plate, or the goblet, 
in which it is folded, unfold and lay it in your lap. 
The waiter will bring a plate of soup first, of course. 
You will not refuse it. At a table d'hote, you can, 
of course, decline it, but at a private dinner party 
you. must at least seem to honor it. If you eat it, 
do so delicately, with the spoon in your right hand, 
and a piece of bread in your left. Eat it as it is 
made, without any addition of condiments. A cook 
once committed suicide from mortification, because 
his master put some salt in his soup. He could not 
survive the mortification of such a professional 
indignity. Of course, he was a Frenchman. 

Eat without the least noise. To suck soup into 
your mouth — to blow it — to tip up your plate — to 
send for a second plate, are things which might 
cause either of the ladies near you to faint — or 
laugh, perhaps, behind their handkerchiefs. 



134 TAKING WINE. 

Next comes fish. This you may dress with the 
proper condiments. There are catsups and sauces 
especially adapted to it. But don't presume* to use 
your knife, nor to eat any vegetables with it. Take 
your fork in your right hand, and your bread in 
your left. Fish does not require cutting. Where 
fish is served at a small and informal dinner, or on 
Friday, as a principal dish, it is another affair. 
You may eat it with vegetables and use a knife ; 
but when it only forms one of several courses, take 
a little, as of soup, and but once. 

When you lay down your fork on the plate, the 
waiter removes it, and supplies you with a clean 
plate. 

Unless you are with temperance people, or are 
yourself pledged to total abstinence, you will pro- 
bably take wine. At the side of your plate you 
will find five glasses — a small one for madeira, 
sherry, &c, a larger goblet for claret, a green 
glass for hock or sauterne, a deeper goblet for cham- 
pagne, and another for water ; or, the waiter who 
asks you what wine you will take, will give you a 
suitable glass. At first take claret ; with the third 
course you may venture on sauterne or hock ; with 
the game comes sherry, port, &c. ; and champagne 
with the desert. A fashionable lady at Montreal 
condensed her opinion of the breeding of a fast 
American she met into a single sentence : " He is 
the sort of man, to take champagne wine with his 
soup." 

If you are conscious of being "green," wait and 
ripen in the light of good examples around you. 

At the first part of a dinner there is much eat- 
ing and little talking. When the appetite is satis- 
fied this is changed. 



DEPORTMENT AT MEALS. 135 

The third course will bring the principal dishes — 
roast and boiled meats, fowls, &c. ; and these are 
followed by game. There are also side dishes of 
various kinds. Game comes next ; and then the 
cloth is removed. 

There are a few rules which must not be violated. 
Your knife was made to cut your food with, and is 
never to be put to your mouth. The four or five 
pronged fork, now in general use, has this intention. 
If you cannot manage with a fork, try a spoon. 

Be exceedingly careful never to say or do any- 
thing at table which can produce disgust. If need- 
ful to remove anything from your mouth, do it care- 
fully with the left hand. But if you eat prudently 
this will seldom be needful. Never use both hands 
to carry anything to your mouth. Break your 
bread, not bite it. Never be seen to pick your 
teeth. Wipe your nose, if needful, but never blow 
it at table. If you must spit, leave the room. 

Before the cloth is removed, finger glasses, or 
large green or purple goblets, with tepid water, 
and a piece of lemon, will be placed by each plate. 
Don't mistake these for lemonade. Dip the tips of 
your fingers in the water, and wipe them on your 
napkin. Wet a corner of the napkin and wipe your 
mouth. The practice of rinsing the mouth with 
water from your goblet, and spirting it into the fin- 
ger glass, is more suited to the privacy of your 
toilette than to a dinner table. 

At the desert, help the ladies near you to pud- 
dings, pies, ice cream, confectionery, fruit, &c. 
Help strawberries with a spoon ; but pass peaches, 
cherries, grapes, . and olives, for each one to help 
himself with his fingers. 

It is not customary to give toasts, or challenge 



136 DEPORTMENT AT MEALS. 

people to take wine with you ; it may, however, be 
done quietly and unobtrusively, as a familiar plea- 
santry. 

Formerly, when ladies were supposed to be de- 
ficient in intellect, and gentlemen were truly defi- 
cient in decency, as soon as the dinner was over, 
and the gentlemen were ready for drinking, talking, 
smoking, and vile stories, and viler songs, the lady 
of the house gave a signal, the ladies rose, the gen- 
tlemen also, some one opened the door, and the 
ladies retired to the drawing room, while the gen- 
tlemen enjoyed their own peculiar pleasures. After- 
ward coffee or tea was served in the drawing room. 
But now that ladies can talk quite as well on most 
subjects as their lords, and that gentlemen think it 
as well to be decent in their own society, ladies re- 
main at the dinner table, take champagne very pru- 
dently, if at all ; coffee is served last, at the dinner 
table ; and all retire together to the music, conver- 
sation, or flirtations of the drawing room. 

This is about the routine of a fashionable dinner ; 
and as our hotel keepers and steamboat captains 
intend to keep up with the fashions, a man who 
travels, if he goes into no society, properly so called, 
will do well to understand what is customary. 

As the lion is best seen at feeding time, so the 
perfect gentleman and man of the world appears at 
best advantage at the table. Eating notably soft- 
ens the temper and increases the geniality . of most 
persons. If you want a favor of a man, see him 
after he has dined. The wine, with people who 
drink, has something-to do with this, perhaps. 

But while a man is eating, and in the early stages 
of his feast, he no more likes to be disturbed or an- 
noyed than the lion aforesaid. In the early part of 



SETTING A TABLE. 137 

a dinner, then, be very quiet, and very careful of 
giving offence. Do not venture on a story, and be 
very sparing of your jokes, until the wire edge of 
hunger has been taken off. 

The table should be set straight and orderly. A 
table set askew, is provoking to all people of regu- 
lar habits. The linen "upon it should be perfectly 
clean — the finer, of course, the better. The service 
uniform, and plain white is by many preferred to 
any print. The knives are to be bright and sharp 
— the forks of silver, or plated metal, but of the 
broad, spoon-shaped fashion. Always provide nap- 
kins They are convenient in all cases, and in some 
of absolute necessity. There should be a salt cellar 
near every person ; and no crowding of dishes. 

With the simplest dinner, it is well to have the 
dishes of meat and vegetables, and the condiments, 
removed, and plates and knives and forks changed, 
for desert. These matters may seem unimportant ; 
but they are not. Every elegant observance adds 
so much to the refinement of our lives. 

Have clear, well-washed, and brightly wiped 
glasses, for drinking. Two persons, very intimate, 
may drink from the same glass, and may even find 
a pleasure in doing so, but this intimacy should never 
be forced upon any one. In all things avoid the 
necessity of personal contact when it is disagreeable. 
You have no right to break a piece of bread in such 
a way as to leave a piece your finger has touched ; 
nor to put your knife in the salt or butter, or your 
tea spoon in the sugar. There should of course be 
a salt spoon, a butter knife, and sugar shovel or 
tongs. 

In these little matters, have nice things, or the 
nicest. White sugar really costs no more than 



138 CARVING AND SERVING. 

brown ; the whitest table salt is cheap enough • 
and a few shillings saved in an article that is to 
last you years, and always give you pleasure or 
pain, is poor economy. If you cannot afford costly 
material, let the pattern be as elegant as possible. 

If needful, learn to carve coolly, neatly, and in 
an orderly fashion. You will learn more, however, 
in watching one accomplished dissection, than by 
all the instructions we can give. But at largo 
tables, all joints, fowls, &c. are removed to a side 
table and carved by a servant. 

In helping any one to sauce, gravy, or vegeta- 
bles, place them upon the side of the plate ; never 
upon the article with which they are to be eaten. 

When a plate of food is sent you, it is intended 
that you should keep it, unless you are particularly 
desired to send it to some person. It is not good 
manners for you to " pass it along," but, " on the 
contrary, quite the reverse." And, when you are 
helped, it is not at all needful that you wait for 
others. It is indeed a manifest injustice, for your 
food is cooling, and you sitting like a Tantalus, an- 
noyed yourself, and annoying every one around you. 
Arrange your napkin and begin. Dinner is not a 
general scramble, in which it is necessary to start 
fair, like the Welsh congregation at the shipwreck. 

Never overload the plate of a guest, or any per- 
son you would serve. It is not a delicate compli- 
ment. If you are to serve game, or any rarity, of 
which the supply is limited, use discretion, and 
". make it go round." 

Fish is never to be cut — use a fish slice or spoon 
in serving ; and as a rule, use a spoon whenever it 
can be done. In eating, as in everything, do the 
best thing in the best manner. 



ETIQUETTE AT MEALS. 139 

Fingers were undoubtedly made before forks ; 
but, in most cases, forks are to be used in preference 
to fingers. But there are exceptions. One never 
uses a fork for olives, or cherries. 

Where there are servants to help you, do not 
trouble those who are eating ; but, if you sit near a 
lady, without watching her plate too closely, see 
that she has what is needful. Davy Crockett said 
that General Jackson was the politest man he ever 
saw ; " for," said he, " when he handed me the 
bottle of brandy, he looked the other way, so as not 
to see how much I drank." Whether this anecdote 
be true or not, it gives an example of genuine good 
breeding. 

Never press people unduly to eat or drink, or 
stay. True politeness consists in putting people at 
their ease, and giving them all possible freedom ; 
but a fussy ceremoniousness is always impertinent. 

The host does not send away his plate until all 
his guests have finished. It would be too strong a 
hint that they were eating too much, and should 
have finished. 

After soup, where wine is drank, the host gives 
the signal, by asking some lady to take wine with 
him. He never asks gentlemen, but may be asked 
by them. 

In sending your plate for anything, leave your 
knife and fork upon it. When you have finished 
any course or dish, lay knife and fork together, with 
the handles toward the right. 

A well-trained waiter always brings what you 
ask for at your left hand, leaving your right free to 
take it from the salver ; and a waiter never touches 
anything with his hands that it is possible to avoid. 
A card or a letter is always brought upon a salver. 



140 THE VIRTUE OF SELF-CONTROL. 

If a lady requests you to pare an apple or peach 
for her, take her fork to hold it, or some other than 
your own. This is a service that may be asked, 
but not often volunteered. 

Servants now wear white gloves in waiting on 
table ; but a clean napkin is as well to hand plates 
with. For a lady or gentleman to wear gloves at 
table is a small affectation, that may as well be dis- 
pensed with. 

Preserve your calmness and presence of mind 
under all circumstances. If you are so heedless as 
to scald your mouth ; if a careless waiter pours a 
plate of soup in your lap ; if china crash, or your 
satin is ruined, still smile serenely, and even jest, if 
you really have' as good command of yourself as you 
must seem to have. The gentleman who remarked, 
when his servant dropped a boiled tongue on the 
diuing room floor, " 7 Tis a mere lapsus lingua, gen- 
tlemen," set a good example. 

At our fashionable hotels, where so many people 
now " live, move, and have their being," it is cus- 
tomary to have breakfast ready from eight o'clock 
to twelve, and to order from the carte, You take a 
seat at the table, give your order to the waiter, and 
read the morning paper while it is in preparation. 

The small points of table etiquette, like many 
others, may easily be learned by a little observa- 
tion. A well-bred person, attentive to the prevail- 
ing customs, never turns his tea or coffee into his 
saucer to cool. The cup was made expressly to 
drink from, and the saucer to hold the cup. He 
does not stir or blow his food or drink to facilitate 
its cooling. He drinks it hot, or waits. He eats 
his eggs from the shell, with or without an egg 
cup, which is to hold the shell, and not its contents, 



DELICACY IN EATING. 141 

by chipping off a little of the larger end, and tak- 
ing it out, as needed, with a spoon. The custom of 
breaking boiled eggs into plates or glasses, is pecu- 
liarly American, and very distasteful to foreigners. 
It may be, and probably is, the best way, notwith- 
standing, but not the fashionable method. He 
does not lounge at his meals, nor put his elbows, on 
the table, nor eat fast, or with a noise, nor attempt 
to talk with his mouth full, nor do any act or thing 
which may disgust his neighbor. 

There is far more delicacy in eating now than 
formerly. In the days of "good Queen Bess," 
ladies ate great quantities of beef, washed down 
with beer and porter ; now they take toast and 
tea. We remember when they ate bacon and eggs, 
fried pork, and sausages ; now, an egg, a bit of 
steak, or chicken, or a piece of some delicate fish is 
as much as a lady usually ventures upon. Most 
kinds of cheese, and the coarser sorts of fish and 
flesh, and such' delicacies as pigs' feet, tripe, &c, 
few ladies of taste and refinement would have it 
known they eat ; and they avoid the liver, kidneys, 
and other viscera of animals. In fact, the entire 
use of animals as food, which seems a relic of our 
ancient and but half-forgotten savageism, grows less 
and less, as the age advances. I know many ladies 
who have not tasted any kind of flesh for from ten 
to twenty years, and others who have never tasted 
it. The purest and simplest diet is most favorable 
to health, and its concomitants of energy and 
beauty. 



CHAPTER XL 



A CHAPTER FOR THE LADIES. 




must beg leave to remain un- 
committed on the serious ques- 
tion of Woman's Rights. It 
is in very able hands ; and if 
women with the talent, zeal, 
and eloquence, to say nothing 
of the beauty, of Mrs. Rose, 
Mrs. Stanton, Lucy Stone, 
and the party of which they 
are leaders, cannot persuade 
men to grant women the right 
of suffrage, my advocacy could 
avail them little. These ladies tell us — we demand 
many urgent and important rights, and one of these 
is the right of suffrage ; however, grant us this one, 
and we will not trouble you about the others. But 
how ladies who have promised to "obey their hus- 
bands" are to benefit by suffrage, we are not in- 
formed. To vote as one's husband or lover voted 
would change nothing. Is it proposed, then, that 
women should vote against them? This would 
destroy the marriage institution, as by law estab- 
lished. This is no objection, however, to the ex- 
tension of the elective franchise to inconsolable 
widows or incorrigible old maids. 



FEMALE HEROISM. 143 

Upon the subjects already treated there are many 
points of especial interest and delicacy, peculiarly 
in the province of the sex. Politeness, it is said, 
knows no sex. In some sense this is true. Men 
and women are first of all human beings, and their 
first relations and highest duties are those of human- 
ity. Sexual peculiarities and delicacies are lost 
sight of in great emergencies. When life or limb, 
when honor or happiness are at stake, we do not 
ask whether the sufferer to be relieved, or the vic- 
tim to be rescued, is male or female. We forget 
the paltry squeamishness that is, nine times in ten, 
the result of some morbid condition. A Lady Go- 
diva is honored through centuries for riding naked 
through the town of Coventry on a mission of phil- 
anthropy. Superstition and State policy burned 
Joan of Arc at the stake, but men now raise statues 
to her heroic memory. Byron has embalmed the 
Maid of Saragossa in immortal verse ; and our 
artists attempt the immortalization of Moll Pitcner, 
who also fought bravely in her red petticoat in some 
revolutionary battle. 

Every day our ladies become more brave, more 
self-reliant, more free, and noble, and womanly. 
Doubtless a woman may step out of her sphere ; 
and she always does so when she does anything 
which is really unwomanly. I do not like to see a 
woman engaged in the coarsest and most arduous 
labors, as is common over the continent of Europe. 
I distrust the gallantry of a nation where women 
dig in coal pits, or toil in mines, or obliterate not 
only all womanliness, but all humanity, in harsh, 
repulsive, and brutalizing labors ; countries where 
such labor supports a titled, and noble, and refined 
aristocracy. 



144 



BELLES IN ANTICIPATION. 




BELLES IN ANTICIPATION. 



I would have woman reverenced and cherished ; 
shielded from the severe hardships of life, and left, 

as far as possi- 
ble, to its more 
elegant uses 
and its enjoy- 
ments. But I 
would not have 
her the hot- 
house flower of 
modern cul- 
ture ; shut up 
in boarding- 
schools, which 
are convents 
without piety ; walking out by rule, and under es- 
pionage ; manufactured by rule into the belle of 
society, an elegant but eva- 
nescent butterfly, to flutter 
through two or three seasons 
of gayeties and dissipations, 
and then be laid upon the 
matrimonial shelf, henceforth 
and in all the future 

"To suckle fools, and chronicle small 
beer ;" 

which is the poetical render- 
ing of housekeeperly duties. 
Doubtless the highest and 
holiest sphere of woman, in 
the most advanced society of 
which we have any expres- 
sion, is the life of domestic- 
ity : but this should not ex- 
clude her from sociality. 




woman's sphere. 145 

But I see nothing unwomanly or unladylike in a 
woman doing any true thing for which she has the 
ability ; and if there is anything within the sphere 
of attractive industry, or art, or intellection, which 
it is improper for a woman to do, I think that 
upon a close examination it would be found that it 
was in itself a thing improper to be done. 

Thus, as a rule, I would not have women soldiers ; 
but then I would be glad not to have soldiers at all. 
Yet when, under the urgency, of some great neces- 
sity, women go to the camp, either as nurses of the 
wounded, or to aid in a desperate conflict, all men 
honor them. I would not have women, as a gen- 
eral thing, lawyers or politicians, because I doubt 
the ultimate necessity of such employments. Wo- 
men disgrace themselves when they engage in essen- 
tially disgraceful employments. Custom blinds us 
to the impropriety of many acts in men, which be- 
come very glaringly so when done by a woman. 

But who shall say that a Madame de Stael, a 
Madame Roland ; a Mrs. Hemans or a Mrs. Sig- 
ourney ; a " George Sand " or a " Currer Bell f 
a Rachel or a Fanny Kemble ; a Sontag or a 
Jenny Lind ; nay, even a Taglioni or an Ellsler, 
are necessarily, and by the exercise of their talents, 
in Politics and Philosophy, or Poetry, or Fiction, 
in Drama or the Opera, or the Ballet, unladylike • 
or that they have sacrificed the true delicacy of 
womanhood, by letting the light of their God-given 
genius illuminate humanity. 

There has been a time, not very distant either, 
when it was considered unwomanly, and wanting in 
feminine delicacy, for a lady to even know how to 
spell. All education was unfashionable. The 
model of ladyhood was a simpering doll, full of little 
10 



146 woman's rights. 

affectations and vanities, but utterly destitute of all 
intellectual culture. But all that is past ; and only 
its retreating shadow rests upon the rear ranks of 
" old-fogy-dom." 

A woman, a lady, with all refined and delicate 
sensibilities, may be an artist in any department of 
art, even the highest and purest ; she may be an 
author of works of science, or philosophy, religion, 
poetry, or romance ; she is the accepted teacher, 
and in certain departments the most effective. She 
may charm the world with the truth of her imper- 
sonation of the thoughts of others, or the eloquent 
utterance of her own.* 

A lady, however, to live in dignity and comfort, 
and not to cut herself off from the life of social sym- 
pathy, must pay a certain deference to public opin- 
ion ; sacrificing something of her own personal inde- 
pendence, and even of her sense of right, in trifles. 
There is no occasion to be heroic about the set of a 
cap, or the color of a riband. Let her save her 
strength for the real earnest struggles for principles. 
Where these are involved, I would have every one 
as brave — as she can afford to be. 

But let us return to the little observances. I 
notice that ladies bow now, instead of curtseying. 
It is more dignified — possibly it is more manly. 
They wore masculine waistcoats of late ; and even 
trousers in some cases ; as they usually and very 

* This may be a little in advance of the times ; but pro- 
gress will make it all right before we shall have printed 
our fiftieth edition. It is now most pertinently asked why 
it was proper for Jenny Lind to sing to assembled thou- 
sands, " I know that my Redeemer liveth," and improper to 
say the same words : or why Sontag should sing to the as- 
sembled clergy of Boston, if it would not have been proper 
for her to read to them ? But time will settle all this. 



POINTS OF BREEDING. 147 

properly do under their riding skirts. The curtsey 
ts an elaborate performance, and, to be graceful, must 
be gracefully done. 

At the first introduction, a lady is not required 
either to kiss a lady, or shake hands with a gentle- 
man ; but she ma,y do either, if justified by her at- 
tractions, which, as every body knows, are, or should 
be, proportional to destinies. 

" No lady," we are told, " should ever extend her 
hand to a gentleman, unless they are very intimate " 
—but what very intimate means, is not stated. If a 
pure minded woman, laying aside these rules of a 
stiff conventionalism, will let her hand obey the 
impulse of her heart, she will find herself far more 
comfortable, be much more beloved, and fully as 
much respected. 

What we contend for, and what we wish to im- 
press, is that no lady should be compelled, by any 
customary form, to give her hand, either for a mo- 
ment, or for life, where her heart cannot go with it. 

Never treat an honest civility, from the humblest 
person, or the most elevated, with rudeness or neg- 
lect. Do not be so absurd as to fancy every saluta- 
tion an insult. 

Where any one mistakes your character, or is 
wanting in respect, a firm, quiet self-possession is 
your safeguard. There is not one man in a million 
who will wilfully insult a dignified, well bred woman ; 
and when such a man is found he deserves to be put 
in prison or a lunatic asylum. There is abundance 
of ignorant impertinence, assumption, and intrusion, 
everywhere, but a little tact will save you from an- 
noyance. 

A foolish, fidgety female, who goes about with 
.the idea that every man she sees has designs upon 



148 COQUETRY AND PRUDERY. 

her virtue, has no claim to the title or consideration 
©f a lady. 

Modesty of behavior is a quiet self-possession, a 
genuine dignity, resulting from harmony of charac- 
ter, a perfect consciousness of your own deserts, and 
an absence of all undue concern about the opinions 
of others. Forwardness, and presumption, are often 
the result of an effort to obtain the consideration 
one is doubtful of meriting. 

Bashfulness, when not too painful, makes a plea- 
sant demand upon our benevolence : but much of 
it gives great awkwardness to the possessor, and is 
a cause of real distress to every beholder. The best 
spirit is that of unconsciousness of one's self, and 
entire faith in the good feeling and good opinions of 
others. 

Coquetry and prudery are both objectionable, be- 
cause they are both affectations, and an affectation 
is a falsehood or hypocrisy. It is a violation of the 
principle of honesty, or the truth of life. The man 
or woman who pretends to an interest in you which 
they do not feel — who endeavors to attract you only 
to display the power of fascination, is a coquette ; 
and such coquetry is wrong, just in proportion as it 
is false, and may be injurious. It is an element 
that enters largely into the flirtations of society, in 
both sexes. 

On the other hand, prudery is an affectation in 
the opposite direction, and of a still more unamia- 
ble character — an affectation of a want of human 
interest, sympathy, and passion — a false pretence of 
some superhuman purity, or frigidity, which, though 
assumed as a merit, is very far from being esteemed 
such by any real estimation of human character. 
The woman really destitute of womanly passions 



CHARACTER AND CANDOR. 149 

and attractions, who has no desire for the society, 
friendship, and love of the other sex, is to be pitied 
as a diseased person, if she does not excite our re- 
pugnance as a monster or unnatural production; 
but that a woman should pretend to such a depri- 
vation, and affect monstrosity, is absurd, and may 
be odious. 

Nature is the standard of truth and goodness. 
In whatever way we violate nature, we depart 
from that true ideal ; we induce falseness or discord. 
But morbid tastes and sick fancies are not to be 
mistaken for natural desires ; and the true life con- 
sists not in the repression or crucifixion of the pas- 
sions, but in their equilibrium or harmony — their 
natural satisfaction and genuine expression. 

Character, or what you really are, is, of course, 
the chief thing ; but reputation has its value, and 
is not to be lightly sacrificed. The want of it de- 
prives you of many rights, and of much happiness. 

Candor is a very beautiful thing ; the free expres- 
sion of all your emotions, of joy or grief, of love or 
hate, may be very satisfactory to you, but it is not 
always convenient, and in a world of social hypoc- 
risies, where people are fully as careful to seem 
right as to be right, it is liable to be misapprehended. 
Reason, or a sense of the fitness of things, and a 
salutary degree of caution, as well as justice and 
benevolence, operate as restraints upon absolute 
freedom of expression. 

When a lady feels that she has made the impres- 
sion she most wished to make, on the man she de- 
sired to attract and charm, her heart may bound 
with happiness ; but it must only be told to those 
around her in the angelic radiance of her face, and 
the sparkle of her eyes. Perfect candor might de- 



150 A SOCIAL PIVOT. 

mand the expression of many deep disgusts, and 
bitter scorns, and violent hatreds ; but they would 
throw discords upon others, violate proprieties, and 
perhaps be really inflictions of injustice. When a 
person says, "Well, I hate hypocrites; /always 
speak my mind," he either tells an untruth, or has 
not much mind to speak. 

A true hearted woman, with a fair amount of 
culture, a person not disagreeable, with some taste, 
and observation of life, and a warm benevolence, 
and desire to please, can scarcely fail to make her- 
self an agreeable and welcome guest in every circle. 
But a false, uncultured one, with no taste, or care 
for pleasing, critical and censorious, jealous and 
malicious, is one of the worst samples of the femi- 
nine part of humanity. 

A lady of taste, refinement, and with so much of 
wealth and fashion as to give her a certain position 
in society, may become the centre of a circle, a social 
pivot, an educator, and in many ways a benefactor. 
Her furniture, the order of her apartments, her pic- 
tures and statuary, her own dress and ornaments, 
may be such as to give pleasure and improvement 
to every person who visits her. Why should not 
her parlor or drawing-room be as nicely arranged, 
and as pretty a study in art, as any picture ? Is 
she not herself, in the possibilities of her air, and 
manner, in pose, and gesture, in dress and ornament 
a work of art ; as she may be much more, in feeling 
and expression ? Her sphere is to cheer, to refine, 
to beautify and bless. The opportunities and influ- 
ence she may thus acquire, she may turn to the no-" 
blest and holiest purposes. Be assured, dear ladies, 
that it is no unimportant or trifling thing to fulfil 
the duties of a fashionable lady. 



FURNITURE. 151 

1 have made a call of ten minutes on such a wo- 
man, and she has lived in my mind and heart, a pic- 
ture of beauty, grace, and charm for long years 
after. Her dress, her air, her sweet, engaging 
manner, the few well chosen words of genial polite- 
ness, the melody of her voice, the kind glance of 
her pure and tender eyes, the gentle pressure of 
her soft hand, all thrill in pleasant memories. I am 
not speaking as a lover, or an especial admirer. I 
do not see this lady sometimes for years ; the call 
of which I speak was one of the merest ceremony ; 
she may have totally forgotten me, but she made an 
impression, like some glorious picture, or divine 
statue, or miracle of architecture, which lives for 
all time — it may be, for all eternities. 

Is beauty vain ? are accomplishments frivolous ? 
are taste and elegance of manners of no value ? 

In every well arranged house there should be, if 
possible, a parlor for calls and little visits, light, 
cheerful, and not too elegant and formal for work ; 
a drawing room for parties and formal occasions ; 
and a dining-room, furnished expressly for its uses. 

As in dress, so in furniture — a little taste is bet- 
ter than much money without it. There are certain 
articles which, if good, cost much, such as carpets 
and mirrors. But couches, lounges, ottomans, and 
chairs, may be quite cheap, and also very tasteful, 
by the exercise of a little art and industry. A 
common chair, which costs a dollar, stuffed and 
covered at the cost of another dollar, may be a bet- 
ter and more beautiful article than one you may 
buy for ten ; and five dollars and a few hours' labor 
will give you a couch really more elegant, as well as 
more comfortable, than a sofa that costs fifty. But 
a good pianoforte, like a good mirror, has the ele- 



152 VISITORS. 

ment of cost, and to save a hundred dollars in one or 
twenty in the other, is poor economy. Plate glass 
keeps its value ; and a good tone is worth more 
than all outside finish. 

Don't make your rooms gloomy. Furnish them 
for light, and let them have it. Daylight is very 
cheap ; and candle or gas light you need not use 
often. If your rooms are dark, all the effect of 
furniture, pictures, walls and carpet are lost. 

Finally, if you have beautiful things, make them 
useful. The fashion of having a nice parlor, and 
then shutting it up all but three or four days in the 
year, when you have company ; spending your own 
life in a mean room, shabbily furnished, or an un- 
healthy basement, to save your things, is the mean- 
est possible economy. Go a little further — shut up 
your house, and live in a pig-pen ! The use of nice 
and beautiful things is to act upon your spirit, — to 
educate you and make you beautiful. 

When visited, without fussiness or trouble, receive 
them kindly, and make them as comfortable as pos- 
sible. Offer a young gentleman a stuffed chair, or 
an arm chair ; an elderly man an arm chair ; a lady 
a seat on the couch or sofa. In winter, the most 
honorable places are at the corners near the fire- 
place ; the least, in front. A well-bred young lady, 
in company, always rises and offers her seat to any 
person better entitled to it ; but if it is her right, 
she does not offer it to another. 

A guest should be put under no constraint, and 
never urged to eat or drink more, or stay longer, 
than is quite agreeable. There is no greater or 
more annoying rudeness than the urgency of over- 
done politeness. Let the window or door open or 
6hut, as will make your visitors most comfortable. 



VISITOES. 153 

Here we may observe, and we wish to particu- 
larly impress it, that the thorough ventilation of 
your rooms, and their perfect sweetness and purity, 
is of the first importance. A stranger, coming 
from the pure air, detects odors you may not ob- 
serve ; and the room which has air enough for one 
or two, soon becomes very close and fetid with a 
dozen persons, some of whom may not be quite so 
healthy or cleanly as might be desirable. 

A lady can scarcely work and entertain visitors, 
unless on the most familiar footing. To do any 
work in the presence of a ceremonious visitor, is 
considered a rudeness. Luckily, such visits are 
brief. 

A lady conducts her visitor, when leaving, to the 
door of the room, if she have company that re- 
mains ; otherwise, to the door of the house. I 
don't know why, only that the remaining company 
should not be left alone, nor to feel that she may be 
gossiping about them with her departing visitor. 
But when the gen 1 " cman of the house is to pay his 
respects to a la<i/ at parting, he must do it very 
thoroughly. He offers his arm, attends her to the 
street door, hands her to her carriage, if she has 
one waiting, and in any case bows as often and as 
profoundly as the case demands. A gentleman 
never turns his back to a lady, except his wife ! 

It is not necessary to offer any refreshments to a 
caller or casual visitor, except, perhaps, a glass of 
wine, where that is considered admissible. Even 
evening parties, of an intellectual cast, and which 
do not continue later than eleven o'clock, require no 
refreshments. 

People do not visit for what they can get to eat ; 
and a constant partaking of solid, or evsa Jiauid 



154 VISITORS. 

hospitalities, is objectionable on hygienic grounds. 
If your visitor, madam, is hungry, feed him ; if 
thirsty, give him, at least, a glass of water. But a 
well bred gentleman or lady, if such a necessity, 
arising from some circumstance of time or distance, 
do not occur to you, will not hesitate, to ask for 
what is required. 

Heaping tables with food, and cramming visitors 
with dainties, is no part of true politeness. It may 
be doubted, in fact, whether you ought ever to at- 
tempt to give your company anything better than 
they are accustomed to having. It is like a boast of 
superiority. If they are to eat with you, give them 
simply what you have without pressing, and with- 
out apologies. Try in all things to make excuses 
unnecessary, and be very sparing of them when they 
are required. 

In the country, people visit. Friends and rela- 
tives, living at long distances, come and spend days 
with you. If you have a large house, many friends, 
and are fond of their society, j ra invite parties of 
them to spend the holidays, or some other season. 
It falls to the lady of the house to provide for their 
comfort. 

They will, of course, come in accordance with your 
invitation, or by appointment. In any case you 
will have notice, and prepare to welcome them, with 
clean, well arranged rooms ; warm fires, if the sea- 
son requires them ; and everything which can con- 
tribute to their happiness. But do not, by extra- 
ordinary display, effort, luxury, and trouble, make 
them feel that they are a burthen to you. Let them 
enter quietly the current of your lives, and not per- 
ceive that they have added to your cares, but only 
to your enjoyments. 



CONVERSATION. 155 

And, dear madam, let me assure you that these 
friends have not come to drive you into the kitchen, 
or pastry room. They have come to enjoy your 
society, much more than the good things you can 
provide them with. You can scarcely give them a 
worse welcome than to feast them into a dyspepsia. 
We are fallible creatures, and, in view of the liabil- 
ities of the human organism, have reason to say to 
all our hospitable entertainers, " Lead us not into 
temptation." 

It may seem a strange complaint to make of wo- 
mankind ; but the chief fault of the women we meet 
in society is that they cannot talk. Out of twenty 
women who look well, dress well, sing well, perhaps 
not three can talk well, or manage even to speak 
three sentences. It is a hard trial for a gentleman 
to lead out one of these dumb belles for a quadrille. 
You approach the beautiful girl with anticipations 
of a delightful chat. She takes your arm and her 
place with all the customary graces. You come to 
the first pause of the figure, when you must talk, 
or stand twiddling your thumbs, and looking very 
foolish. Your partner is as grave as Minerva's 
owl ; you venture the remark that — 

" It is a delightful evening." 

" Very !" 

" Yes, charming I The moonlight gives sucn a 
beautiful effect to the scenery at this season." 

" Very !" 

11 And these little social gatherings, where on© 
can enjoy the happiness of meeting with refined, 
and — ah — elegant, and — ah — beautiful ladies, are 
bo — so very pleasant 1" 

" Very !" 

You may as well give it up. 



156 CONVERSATION. 

Now, if you should chauee to be within ear-shot 
when this " very" interesting young lady gets into 
a corner with two or three of her own sex, you may 
chance to hear her rattling away with the most de- 
lightful volubility, and very likely making capital 
fun of you and your fine speeches. 

Why is all this ? Probably because that, since 
she felt the first impulses of womanhood, she has 
been confined in a female boarding-school, and has 
never had five minutes' unwatched, unrestrained con- 
verse with a man ; who is, consequently, a terrible 
creature that she is in mortal dread of every mo- 
ment, and who drives every simple and natural idea 
out of her head. This is my explanation — give a 
better who can. 

A fine woman, with only a fair development of 
the intellect, if she have the grace and self-posses- 
sion of a lady, is the charm of society. There is 
no man who would not walk ten miles for the chance 
to talk with such a woman five minutes. 

But a lady must not rattle, unless she can do it 
triumphantly. She must never talk boisterously. 
If her wit be keen, it must be gentle too. Buf- 
foonery is dangerous. Extremes of haughtiness or 
humility must be avoided. Ladies, of course, never 
cross their legs, nor assume awkward attitudes, nor 
sit on the edges of their chairs, nor make a display 
of spreading out their dresses, nor of protecting 
them. Dejection, anxiety, or ill humor, are, of 
course, not to be carried into company. In society, 
every one, trying to make others happy, must at 
least appear to be happy themselves. 

As gentlemen make calls on New Year's day, 
the day and week following is specially devoted to 
that purpose by the ladies. Wishing a " Happy 



COSTUME. 157 

"New Year" is obsolete. If, by any chance, you are 
caught out over-dressed, make an apology. Those 
who wear fine clothes in the street have no other 
place to display them. Broadway is their drawing- 
room, where a richly or showily dressed woman is 
either a visitor from the country, not au fait to town 
customs, or one of the frail sisterhood, who disre- 
gard inconvenient fashions. 

A lady requires a card case ; a gentleman carries 
his cards in his waistcoat pocket. Mourning cards 
have a broad black margin ; half-mourning, only a 
black edge ; but we do not approve of a ceremoni- 
ous display either of grief or its pretense. A lady 
full draped in bombazine and crape, is a lugubrious 
spectacle to intrude into a joyous assemblage. Black 
is becoming ; and young widows, fair, plump, and 
smiling, with their roguish eyes sparkling under 
their black veils, are very seducing, no doubt ; but 
the whole custom of wearing mourning is a sad 
fashion, which the good sense of the coming age 
will consign to the museum of all antique bar- 
barisms. 

Don't put your cards around the looking glass, 
unless in your private boudoir. If you wish to dis- 
play them, keep them in a suitable basket or vase 
on the mantel or center table. 

In making and receiving calls, and performing 
what are called the duties of society, endeavor to 
feel the pleasure you express ; cull and choose your 
visiting list so that the customary compliments may 
be sincere ; for habitual hypocrisy and constant 
lying — even the white lies of fashion — are thought 
to have a bad effect on the character. 

Your children must be remarkably good, well 
trained, and amiable, to allow of your taking them 



158 RULES OF CUSTOM. 

with you in making calls ; and the lap dog must be 
left in the ante-room. If you ride, however, it is 
best to let children, nurse, and dogs stay in the 
carriage. 

As to pets. Birds are beautiful ; dogs are affec- 
tionate, often ; cats are amiable, when they are, 
but it is better that any woman should have human 
sympathy, than to lavish the wealth of her heart on 
animals. They are the resource of those forlorn 
beings who can find no other objects of love— the 
social Robinson Crusoes. 

"A young married lady cannot present herself 
in public without the protection (espionage) of her 
husband, or an aged lady ;" so says fashion. If 
fashion condescended to give a reason, it would be 
that no young woman can be trusted with her own 
virtue or reputation. "They are at liberty" — we 
quote again — "to walk with young married ladies, 
or unmarried ones, while the latter should never 
walk alone with their companions." Young ladies 
are not even to be trusted with each other. " Nei- 
ther should they show themselves, except with a 
gentleman of their family, and then he should be a 
near relation, of respectable ageP Of respectable 
age ! — remember that. 

"Young widows have equal liberty with married 
ladies." That is a comfort, at all events. That is, 
a young widow can walk out with her husband, or 
an aged lady ! 

If we may be permitted to make a suggestion, it 
is that wives, widows, and young ladies are much 
better able to take care of themselves, and much 
more to be trusted, than these rules would indicate. 
They smack of the seraglio ; they are but one step 
from prisons and eunuchs ; they are an insult to 
female intelligence and female virtue. 



ATTENDANCE. 159 

How would it sound to say, A married man can 
only walk with his wife or some old fogy of his own 
sex. Young gentlemen should never walk alone 
with their companions ; neither should they show 
themselves, except with a lady of their family ; and 
then she should be a near relation, of respectable 
age — an aunt, or grandmother, for instance. 

In large towns, and where there may be ruffians 
to insult, or even assault her, a woman should have 
protection, whenever and wherever required. In 
well lighted, frequented, and business streets, there 
is little or no danger ; but in quiet and unfrequent- 
ed ones there may be much, and it should be care- 
fully guarded against. The rules we have satirized 
seem intended to guard a woman against herself. 
A virtuous woman does not need them ; with one 
who is not, they are a mere hypocrisy. 

On an evening visit, a lady should be sure of the 
necessary attendance, so as not to give too much 
trouble. A gentleman may be willing to walk a 
mile out of his way, on a cold winter's night, with a 
lady, but it is another thing to return the same dis- 
tance without her ; yet a tender sentiment might 
make it a great happiness. 

A lady should read, or sing, or dance, when she 
is asked, readily, cheerfully, and without urging, if 
she can, and has no special disinclination. If she 
refuse, let it be firmly, and for cause, and let her 
not be urged to do what is repugnant to her. 

Ladies and gentlemen do not make particular 
inquiries in regard to each other's health, nor make 
it, indeed, a subject of conversation. As every one 
ought to be well, every one is presumed to be so : 
and such remarks as, " You are looking very poorly; 
I am sorry to see you so ill f are not pleasant. 



160 



THE FREEDOM OF WOMAN. 



Freedom is an element of nobility of character 
and position, and is essential to the true idea of a 
lady. A woman may be entirely pure and chaste 
in her manners and character without being servile, 
and meanly submitting to the kind of restraint, 
espionage, and guardianship that society is some- 
times inclined to force upon her. I would not have 
a woman think an impure thought, nor ever do or 
submit to an indelicate action. It is her right to 
firmly reject every familiarity, every expression of 
any kind repugnant to her sense of purity. Such a 
woman is fit for freedom, and has the supreme right 
of self-ownership and self-control. She is a fit ex- 
ponent of the principle of true liberty, which is the 

RIGHT TO DO THE RIGHT. 




woman's rights, a, to Francaise. 




o you wish to play well your 
part upon this stage of mortal 
life, upon which you find your- 
without knowing how ; 
and having but a vague appre- 
hension of the wherefore. You 
have a part upon that stage, however unimportant 
it may be. See that you do that part well, and 
merit the applause, which, sooner or later, is the 
reward of all right action. 

Firmly as you may assert the rights of your indi- 
vidual being ; strongly as you may repel all imper- 
tinent interferences with those sacred personal 
rights ; you are none the less a social being ; a 
member of society ; a part of the great whole of 
humanity. " We are all members, one of another," 
saith the Scripture. One is a hand ; another a 
foot ; another is a brain, or some organ of the 
brain ; and each individual may perform some func- 
tion necessary to the whole organization of society, 
and yet have a life of his own. This work seeks to 
define the relations of men in society. Those who 
assert that society is everything, and the individual 
nothing, and those who contend for the entire op- 
posite, are equally in the wrong. The truth, as 
usual, lies between these two extremes. 
11 



162 CONVEKSATION. 

Whatever may be the beauty of person, the ele- 
gance of costume, the graces of position and move- 
ment, respecting which we have already said some- 
thing, and shall have much more to say hereafter, 
the great charm of social intercourse is conversa- 
tion. It is the most varied and universal of all 
modes of expression. It belongs to the intellect as 
well as to the sentiments and affections ; and, ad- 
dressing the sense of hearing in the melodies of tone 
and modulation, it contributes probably more to 
the happiness of social intercourse than all other 
gifts combined. 

We do not undervalue music, which is indeed a 
species of language ; we have found pantomimes 
beautifully expressive ; a mobile face and tell-tale 
eyes most truly speak to us ; but words are the 
signs of our ideas, and we have many ideas which 
can be conveyed only by spoken words, or signs 
which are in turn their representatives. 

How poor the world would be in science and the 
materials of thought, — in sublimity and poetry, 
were it not for language ! 

The most important of social accomplishments, 
then, is conversation. Yet how seldom is it taught 
as a science or an art. The music teacher drills 
his pupil through quarter after quarter with unre- 
mitting assiduity. The pupil practices from three 
to five hours a day, to be able to play a few tunes 
on a pianoforte ; but where is any similar training 
in conversation ? As if the human voice, exercised 
in the noble and beautiful faculty of speech, were 
not as worthy of culture, and as susceptible of the 
improvement of exercise and training as any other 
organ or faculty. All are governed by the same 
law. 



NATURAL GIFTS IMPROVED BY CULTURE. 163 

As a result of this almost total neglect of all care 
and culture, we have so few good talkers ; so many 
with bad habits of tone, articulation, enunciation, 
and method ; so many, moreover, who can scarcely 
speak at all, not so much from the want of ideas 
and sentiments to express, as from never having 
been taught how to express them. 

The rarely gifted, indeed, in this as in so many 
other things, are eloquent by nature, and have no 
need of teaching. So there are those who are nat- 
urally so graceful that the dancing master can 
scarcely improve them ; those who sing by inspira- 
tion, and conquer the difficulties of musical instru- 
ments almost without effort ; but these rare instances 
of fine natural development and spontaneous excel- 
lence are given as copies or models, to show what 
is attainable by all. 

Not that all can sing well, or dance, or converse, 
but all who can do a thing at all, can do much bet- 
ter. Of the lesser faculties, such as time, tune, &c, 
many persons are now almost wholly deprived. But 
all who possess the requisites of hearing and speech, 
may hope to learn to express themselves agreeably 
in conversation. 

Next to a good dress is a good address. Elo- 
quence is a mighty power, whether exercised upon 
great masses of people, upon smaller groups, or a 
single listener. Each application has its own 
method ; and the same style and language, applica- 
ble to one, may be ridiculous with the other. Let 
us begin at the elements of this subject, and endear 
vor to give it a thorough analysis. 

Tone is the first thing to be considered. In the 
effort to speak, we first produce a sound, then mod- 
ulate it to our purposes. Tone has three elements — 



164 ELEMENTS OF TONE. 

quality, intensity, and pitch. The quality of a tone 
is its peculiar nature, or the kind of sensation it 
produces. In instruments we have a great variety 
of tones, as those of the trumpet, bassoon, flute, 
violin. We have soft, sweet, liquid, silvery ; harsh, 
resonant, vibrating, penetrating. The tone, when 
not simulated, is indicative of the character ; and 
we remember a voice when the features are forgot- 
ten. The quality of a voice is often very impressive, 
as well as its modulation. There are simple notes 
of joy, or of grief, or extreme anguish. 

No a*rt can entirely alter the quality of a voice. 
We cannot change the flute into the oboe ; but in 
oboes and flutes, there are great differences. Two 
violins, not differing in their external appearance, 
but only in quality of tone, may be worth, the one 
two dollars, and the other two hundred or two 
thousand. We improve the tone of instruments by 
care in the choice of materials, and by skill in man- 
ufacture ; and the quality of the tone of every hu- 
man voice may be improved by choosing the sweet- 
est and finest tones, and exercise of the vocal organ. 
We may at least avoid the vices which make so many 
human voices harsh and repulsive. 

One of the most unpleasant faults in the quality 
of tone is produced by throwing the voice into the 
nasal cavities — " speaking through the nose," as it 
is called. Speaking in or with the nose would be 
more proper. If you have this habit or tendency, 
labor unremittingly to correct it. Use your own 
ear or that of a friend until you get a pure tone, 
quite free from this fault, and then resolve never to 
let it be heard again. Whole sections of our coun- 
try are infected with this malady. It came, far 
back, from some vicious Puritan psalm singing 



THE FLAT TONE. l65 

Correct it by all means, and never let it creep into 
your speech.. If your ear has been so corrupted by 
custom and habit, that you cannot detect your own 
defects, or if you have reason to suspect such ina- 
bility, find some friend who can assist you. 

Next to the nasal tone, in its unfortunate vul- 
garity, or disagreeableness, is the flat sound, which 
seems to arise from an actual flattening of the throat 
and mouth ; for if the mouth is opened and rounded, 
the tone also becomes round and sonorous. The 
flat tone, like the nasal, may be the result of a 
careless imitation of bad examples ; but whatever 
the cause, lose no time, and spare no pains in 
amending it. 

Germans, and persons of German descent, are 
liable to a guttural tone, coming thick and hawking 
from the throat. Open the passage ; let the sound 
issue clear, and articulate further forward. 

The organs of speech, trachea, larynx, glottis, 
tongue and lips, are all muscular organs, under the 
control of voluntary muscles, and susceptible of im- 
provement from exercise or education, like the fin- 
gers. There are qualities of tone, indeed, which are 
the gift of nature, like the beauties of the form. A 
sweet voice is natural, but it is also improveable ; 
and we can do much to remedy natural defects, and 
still more to cure the effects of evil habits. 

Endeavor to acquire and use, as round, smooth, 
sweet, solid and pure a tone, as is possible to you. 
Avoid the nasal twang or whine ; it is odious. 
Avoid the flat tone ; it is flat. Avoid the guttural, 
the husky, the rough, the sharp, the dry, the hard, 
the cold ; for all these terms characterize tones of 
the voice itself, aside from its modulations. Try it 
well in all keys, in both speaking and singing j ancj. 



166 PITCH OF THE VOICE. 

with an earnest perseverance, find and nse the best 
tones you can command. How long and hard you 
work to get a thousand dollars ! A sweet, musical 
voice, in song or speech, is worth many thousands. 
Get rich then in these true riches of life, which are 
not subject to the disasters of commerce. 

The pitch of the voice is the place of its tones in 
the musical scale, as high or low. Some voices are 
deep, cavernous, grum, and though a low voice may 
be musical, and often is impressive, pitching the 
voice too low, is likely to make it harsh in its vibra- 
tions. But pitching it too high is a worse fault. 
A shrill, high toned, piping voice, seems strained 
and dissonant, and must be very sweet in quality, 
and very nicely modulated, not to give pain to the 
hearer. It approaches, at a distance, those sharp, 
high, piercing notes of birds and insects which tor- 
ture our ears and set the teeth on edge. A high 
key of voice seems weak in men ; it is apt to be 
vixenish in women ; as the low tones of men are 
harsh, and those of women coarse. There are fe- 
male voices, which, in the depths of a rich contralto, 
unite a masculine force of character, with a womanly 
tenderness. There are high voices in men full of 
refinement and sweetness, and even of a tender 
energy ; and the flute-like warblings, or even the 
speech of some high sopranos are truly enchanting. 
Find the natural pitch of your voice, and use that 
habitually. If it seem too low, elevate it a little ; 
if too high, carefully and without solemnity or affec- 
tation, depress it. A voice, sweet and low, is 
thought a very desirable thing in a woman, because 
the voices of women are often harsh and shrill. 

The loudness and intensity of the voice is often 
confounded with the pitch. One is force or volume, 



LOUDNESS OR INTENSITY. 167 

at whatever elevation or depression of the scale, or 
fineness or coarseness of vibration. You may speak 
very load, in a low key ; and very softly in a high 
one. The bellowing of a bull is on a low key, until 
he breaks into his falsetto or octave pitch ; the 
hum of the musquito is on a high key. 

" Speak loud, but not too loud ;" the book says 
Speak loud enough to be heard, say we ; but not 
louder than is needful. To speak loud ; to raise the 
voice in a discussion ; to be noisy in company ; or 
any where but where noise is demanded, are vulgar- 
ities. A well-bred man seldom speaks with a loud 
voice. He adapts the supply to the actual demand, 
with a little surplus for the accidents of deafness. 
He measures the space his voice is to fill, feels in a 
few tones the quantity of atmosphere which he is to 
play upon and cause to vibrate, and gives just the 
quantity or intensity of tone required to make the 
clearest and best impression on his hearers. 

Something may be allowed for ■ the excitement of 
a speaker who loses his self-command ; but all rant- 
ing and roaring is detestable to a man of taste. 
Even deep passion expresses itself, in a man of re- 
finement, much more in intensity of enunciation and 
modulation — in a certain compression and solidity 
of tone, than in mere loudness. 

Yet, how people and public speakers roar. Tra- 
gedians bellow to split the ears of groundlings ; 
politicians halloa themselves hoarse, that a sympa- 
thetic mob may cheer them back again ; a lawyer 
sometimes belabors a jury with a sound like the 
voice of many waters ; but why should a preacher 
yell at his congregation, or scream his prayers in 
the ears of Omniscience ? Why does a man, 
mounted in a pulpit, storm away at his hearers in a 



168 ARTICULATION. 

body, as ne would never think of doing if lie were 
speaking to them singly ; or pray as if the omni- 
present Deity was afar off ? . 

It is well to be heard ; it is rude not to speak so 
as to be easily heard by all who have the right to 
hear ; but no gentleman or lady of true breeding or 
refinement will ever be betrayed into the vulgarity 
of boisterous talking. 

A clear and distinct articulation is of more im- 
portance than loudness of tone.' To speak thick, 
to mutter, to splutter or stammer, to pronounce 
half or half pronounce the sounds or syllables which 
form a word, — these are very common but grievous 
faults. 2s o one thing so surely marks a cultivated 
and refined person as a clear and accurate articula- 
tion: — not too sharp and formal, but polished and 
rounded to the true ideal of speech. 

My friend, let me speak to you very earnestly on 
this point. Whatever is worth doing at all, is 
worth doing well. Whatever you do every day, 
almost every waking hour, do as well as possible. 
Your spoken language is composed of certain 
sounds, which, combined together, form words. Let 
every word you speak have all its elements, com- 
bined in a clear and orderly maimer. Let each 
word be like a pure good coin, as it drops from the 
mint, not blurred, marred, defaced, aud deformed. 
If your thoughts are pure and good, so let their 
expression be clear and beautiful. 

Here is a chance now for resolute self-culture. 
Begin with the first elements of language. In a 
clear, pure tone, and with the right pitch and loud- 
ness, make the following vowel sounds — a as in fate, 
a in far, a in fall, a in fare, a in fat ; give the vowel 
sounds purely, without the consonants a, ah, a.w, 



THE 'VOWEL SOUNDS. 169 

&c. Sound e in meet ; e in met ; i in pine, which 
is, in fact, a diphthong made of ah and e; i in it ; o 
in note ; o in move ; o in nor ; o in not ; u in tube ; 
u in tub ; u in bull. TF" has the sound of double o 
rather than double u. In saying well, we pronounce 
quickly oo-ell. Y has the sound of long e, or the 
different sounds of i. 

You think all this is simple enough. So it is, if 
you have been educated in good habits of speech ; 
but if otherwise,, these fundamental principles of 
language will demand your earnest and persevering 
attention. 

While the Yankee sounds his long a and i, thin 
and sharp, through his nasal cavities, the western 
man runs into the opposite extreme of breadth ; his 
bear is a bar; his home a hum: his well a wahl ; 
his father is fawther ; or his pa is his paw. Let is 
not lut ; pine is not pahine, nor poine, but simply 
and clearly pine. JNo is not nuh ; brute is not 
broot, nor flute Jioot. Indeed, there is scarcely a 
greater vulgarity of speech than to pronounce the 
long and slender u as if it were a double o. It is 
as bad a fault, perhaps, to pronounce shoot shute, 
in the Yankee fashion. You might as well call 
your boot a bnte, and pronounce alike " beauty and 
booiyP The true sound of the long English u, 
which approaches a little the French u, is easily 
given in future, fusion, &c, which are not at all 
like foolish, as this is not like mulish. 

Do not make two syllables into a diphthong, by 
such a transposition as voilent for vi-o-lent. When 
you are clear as to these sounds, in which a spelling 
book or the introduction to some good dictionary 
will aid you, read now and then a page or two of a 
book without sounding the consonants, giving only 
the vowel sounds. 



170 THE VOWEL SOUNDS. 

Run into no affectations of pronouncing words 
contrary to the best usage, or following the spelling. 
Walker, in his dictionary, marked a whole class of 
words in which e sounds like short u, as short 0. 
Teachers and pupils all over the country made des- 
perate efforts to conform to this blunder, pronounc- 
ing her as if it were the first syllable of herring. 
So he and most lexicographers mark a in pare, 
mare, fare, as the first or long sound, and people 
have worried and drilled themselves into this mode, 
as, When he came thay-er, he made a pray-er, but 
they stole his may-er, and that made him sway-er. 
Avoid all such stupidities ; and if you have been 
taught them, be rid of them as soon as possible. 

Drill your voice in tone and pitch, on all the 
simple vowel sounds and combinations of vowels. 
Then attack the consonants. Clearly and firmly 
form every such sound as b, c, d, f, I, m, n. Speak 
them without a vowel. Your b then is only a sound 
in the throat, with the lips closed ; your d is a simi- 
lar stopping of the sound by placing the end of the 
tongue against the roots of the upper front teeth ; 
your g, as heard in good, is a stoppage of the sound 
by the root of the tongue against the roof of the 
mouth. 

Some of the consonants are but a breathing or 
whisper sound — s, t, f ; while p has no sound, but 
only gives a certain form or modification to the be- 
ginning or end of the vowel. 

Go carefully, in this manner, through the analy- 
sis of your alphabet, or elements of speech. These 
are your tools. See that they are in good order, 
and that you know how to use them. Then read a 
page, giving only the consonants, and omitting the 
vowels. Then separate vowels and consonants, and 



THE LETTER R. 171 

sound them successively. Thus, in the word bread, 
you have four elements, b, r, e short, and d. Find 
the true value of each, and then join them in the 
one word bread. 

One of the most important, strongest, and most 
abused elements of our language is that represented 
by the letter r. It enters into many of our strong 
words ; it is an element of strength, power, force, 
terror, &c, but many persons never get its full and 
proper use. 

It is easy enough to sound the r at the beginning 
of a word, as round, road ; but a class of small 
dandies affect to be too lazy even for this, and say 
wound and woad instead. It is at the end of a 
syllable where this strong element is most frequently 
partially or entirely omitted. You sound the first r 
in error because it is followed by another ; but you 
are apt to slight it in parson, calling that estimable 
functionary a pah-son. You go to a pah-ty, if it ia 
not too fan, so as to make you a mah-tyr. Even in 
such words as star, car, bar, the true sound of the 
r is often unheard. 

While many, perhaps most people omit this sound 
in many places, others greatly exaggerate it. Its 
true sound in English is a gentle rolling sound, as 
in sorrow ; but our spouting tragedians give it a 
lengthened trill. They tr-r-r-ack the cr-r-r-uel mur- 
r-r-r-der-r-r-er to his lair-r-r-r ! Pray you avoid it ; 
but learn to give the full true sound, wherever it 
belongs, and particularly at the end of words or 
syllables, where it is so often and improperly omitted. 
The misplacing of the semi-labial and aspirate sounds, 
of v and h, are faults of local custom, //englishmen 
Aoften, but not ^always misplace their Aaitches. 
They say, " 'ow dye do ? 'Itch your 'orse, and come 



172 DIFFICULTIES OF FOREIGNERS. 

into the 'ouse. 'Ave a little Aale, or some 'alf an' 
'alf. 'Elp yourself ; come now, that's 'earty. 'Ow 
Aold is your 'orse ? Does 'e Aeat much ? I 'ate a 
'orse that Aeats too much." 

Another cockney habit, which has found its way 
here is the droll exchange of v's and v's. We have 
tried to correct this fault in some persons, but in 
vain. Their ears could not distinguish the differ- 
ence in sound. " He's a vagabond," said such a 
person. " Why not say vagabond ?" " I did say 
vagabond ;" and so they talk of weal, vinegar, and 
vegetables. " Fell, Jim, rot makes this 'ere 'os 
Aopen 'is Aeyes in this sort o' ray ?" " Vj, its cos 
J e's vicious." 

Foreigners, and persons of foreign descent, have 
much difficulty in conquering such elements of our 
language as do not exist in their own. It is seldom 
that a Frenchman or German can learn to say this, 
that, other, both ; he says dis, dat, or zis, zat ; 
oder, or ozer ; bote, or bose. Yet a careful train- 
ing would conquer all these difficulties. There is no 
impossibility — it is a mere question of care and 
effort. These points refer more properly to pro- 
nunciation, perhaps, but it is not easy to distinguish 
between the articulation of letters and syllables, and 
the pronunciation of words, only -that the latter in- 
cludes the former. 

Articulate clearly, and with entire distinctness, 
then, every word you have to speak. A clear ar- 
ticulation makes up for lack of force. Even deaf 
people can understand better those who speak dis- 
tinctly, than those who only speak loud. Clear 
articulation makes speech like a beautiful engraving, 
in which every line is distinct, while the careless and 
blundering manner of many speakers is like a blurred 
and defaced copy, in which every outline is lost. 



THE FUTURE LANGUAGE. H 3 

The Welsh use p for b, t for d, and c for g. They 
are, in fact, modifications of the same elements. 
When a Welshman is wicked, he swears funnily, 
" py Got !" or " py the Lort !" or, more properly, 
though in no better English, " Cot pless us ! Coot 
Lort teliver us !" The heavier Dutchman makes 
just the opposite mistake. His labials and gutter- 
als are all hard. He says " bollitics," a^id " gonsti- 
tution f approximating to a person with a cold in 
the head, whose nasal orifices are closed, and who 
talks about " go wig seraladlig by the boodlight." 

Pronounce according to the prevailing usage of 
the best society. Equally well educated persons 
differ as to a few words, or even classes of words, in 
our language.. Thus, the word either is sometimes 
called e-ther, sometimes i-ther. Thus many words 
of Latin and French derivation, are pronounced 
with the broad sound of a, like ah, or with the 
French sound of i like ee, by some, while others 
more thoroughly Anglicise these words, by sounding 
the a as in fate, and the i as in pine. 

Thus parent and patent, have the a either long 
or broad, or short ; and in names, Ermina, Maria, 
Louisa, the z's are sounded, either like i in pine or e 
in me. Our language' is gradually changing so as 
to correspond more closely to the languages of con- 
tinental, and particularly south-western Europe. 
Words are constantly introduced from the French, 
Spanish, Italian, and German languages, whose 
vowel sounds differ from our own. or are represented 
by different characters. In all these the a sounds 
as in far ; the e approximates our a in fate ; the i 
sounds as in pique, antique, &c. It is highly pro- 
bable that in three centuries the three great lan« 
guages, English, French, and German, will be fused 



114 READING AND ACCENT. 

into one, combining the best elements of each, 
while the useless or unused portions will become 
obsolete. 

It is safe now, in pronunciation, to follow the 
standard of Webster. He gives a very clear 
analysis of the powers of the English elements, and 
has taken much pains to find the best usage in pro- 
nunciation. 

In learning to pronounce, we should read or 
speak de-lib-er-ate-ly, giving each syllable and letter 
its full and accurate intonation. A little careful 
practice in this manner, with a good ear or a good 
teacher, will go far to reform our errors. For it is 
a very rare thing to find a man or woman who is a 
good reader. It is so rare that people pay half 
dollars and dollars to hear others read ; so rare that 
a Mrs. Kemble, simply sitting at a desk and reading 
the plays of Shakspeare, could make a fortune. I 
can this day find more tolerable pianoforte players 
in New York than tolerable readers. 

One slurs the sounds or syllables over, running 
them confusedly together, so that a word of four or 
five syllables seems to have but two. Distinctness 
is keeping things separate or apart. Confusion is 
melting or running together. Some run the sounds 
together in a confused speech ; some pass lightly 
over the vowel sounds ; some sink and blur the 
clear, sharp, defining consonants. We hear many 
kinds of false pronunciation, such as unt for ent, and 
ant, as agreement, consonant. So, also, we hear 
providence. The final g is very often omitted, and 
men say comin', goin', &c. We have fab for far ; 
and, on the other hand, sor for saw. Theie are 
few worse mispronunciations than "I sor 'im." 
You may as well say, " I seen him." 



CONFUSION OF SPEECH. lt-5 

But we need not enumerate the common errors 
and vulgarities of pronunciation, but those faults 
from which even educated people do not always 
escape. 

One of these is a sharp, hard accentuation, or a 
throwing of the whole stress upon one syllable, 
sinking and confusing the others, so that a sentence 
is little more than a succession of accented syllables. 
This is a great fault, and is to be carefully avoided 
and corrected. In the French language there is 
scarcely any accent at all, only a slight stress, gen- 
erally on the last syllable. Our language seems 
hard, and, when carelessly spoken, very harsh and 
indistinct to a Frenchman. 

There is no better practice for acquiring a good 
method, in this respect, than to read sometimes 
without accenting at all, giving precisely the same 
force to every syllable in a sentence. This is merely 
an exercise, to correct the opposite fault ; as we 
bend backward to cure ourselves of stooping. 

Many of our long words have two and even three 
accents. In the word accentuation, the principal 
accent falls on the fourth syllable, but there is also 
a less one on the second ; while the word incompre- 
hensibility has three distinct accents. 

We do not find it easy to illustrate, in type, the 
common errors of speech ; but we hear people say — 
" Tis a pufk bsudty ; calklate zwellzhu can, suckum- 
stances '11 cur, to constoot nexeption tlupsetcher 
calklations." ? Tis a per-fect ab-sur-di-ty ; calcu- 
late as -well as you can, cir-cum-stan-ces will oc-cur, 
to con-sti-tute an ex-cep-tion, that will up-set your 
cal-cu-la-tions. 

There is a great laziness, or economy of speech, 
that condenses three or four sounds into one. How 



116 EMPHASIS. 

do you do ? is howd do ? But the hints we have 
given will enable every earnest student to conquer 
these difficulties. 

There is always to be avoided the opposite ex- 
treme of pedantry, stiffness, or formality ; none of 
which is perceptible in the rounded and polished ac- 
curacy of a truly graceful speaker. 

We must say something of emphasis, which is a 
stress laid upon certain words in every sentence. It 
is not considered polite to be very emphatic. Some 
people spoil their sentences by trying to emphasize 
nearly all their words, and, if they write, they are 
constantly underscoring, and in print make a free 
use of italics and exclamation points. Emphasis, 
like all forcible demonstrations, should be used 
sparingly, and with moderation. Well chosen lan- 
guage needs little of this artifice. Many players on 
the stage mar their author's meanings, and vulgar- 
ize their speech, by using too much emphasis ; a 
few go to the opposite extreme of monotony ; while 
not a few, like the penny showman, place the em- 
phasis on the words which least require such intens- 
ity of articulation. To emphasize correctly is a 
great beauty, and, in some sentences, quite useful to 
the sense ; as a sentence of five words may have as 
many different senses, according to the emphasis. I 
ask " will you read ?" "No, you must excuse me." 
" Will you read ?" " No, let Ellen." " Will you 
read ?" " I prefer conversation." In the transpo- 
sitions of poetry, the sense of the author may be en- 
tirely marred, by misplacing emphasis ; as the 
rhythm is destroyed by a false accentuation. It is, 
therefore, very needful that the reader understand 
his author, and enter into his feeling ; and, if he do, 
Nature will be his best teacher in emphasis and 
ation. 



MODULATION. lft 

Many persons converse with vivacity and force, if 
not elegance of expression, who read with constraint, 
and monotonously. They cannot make another's 
feelings their own ; they cannot even read their own 
writings with the same energy and eloquence that 
they would utter them, fresh spoken, as they rise. 
For this reason, a written sermon or speech is apt 
to be rather a prosy affair ; and clergymen who 
read their discourses are subject to laryngitis, which 
rarely affects extemporaneous and impassioned ora- 
tors. 

Modulation, or the inflexion of the voice in speak- 
ing, is the highest grace, and approaches musical 
art. It has its nationalities and its vices. The 
Irish speak with a falling inflexion, in almost every 
sentence, the sound running down in this way — , ; 
the Scotch speak with a rising inflection — ' ; and, 
by observing this, it is not difficult to imitate the 
peculiarities of either. The Quakers, Methodists, 
&c, in their religious exercises, run into a sing-song 
monotony, changing the pitch by minor thirds. 
This is, probably, the simplest and rudest form of 
chanting ; and seems to be the spontaneous expres- 
sion of certain kinds of excitement or fervor of 
feeling. 

The graceful, sweet, and ever-varying modulations 
of a good speaker, are full of music and beauty, but 
they usually come by nature ; though a good master 
may, doubtless, give much assistance. The best we 
can do is to point out the faults of either a monoto- 
ny of a want of inflection, or the still worse monot- 
ony of sameness of inflection. Every thought, every 
feeling, every change of circumstance, almost, re- 
quires some change in modulation. Persons who are 
free and unembarrassed, are not so apt to be faulty 
12 



178 GRAMMATICAL ERRORS. 

in this as in other respects, in conversation, but set 
them to read, or repeat from memory, or play in a 
drama, and there are very few who will stand the 
test. 

Grammatical accuracy, in the construction of sen- 
tences, is, of course, absolutely necessary to elegance 
in conversation, though a few colloquial phrases, not 
strictly grammatical, are used by very well-bred 
people. There is a formal preciseness, a kind of 
pedantry or puritanism of speech, that is as offen- 
sive as the extreme of foppery in dress, or ceremony 
in behavior. I won't, is often better than I will 
not ; and I can't, than I can not ; but ain't and 
hain't, run too far upon the verge of vulgarity. 
There are also certain provincialisms that we may 
point out to be avoided. 

We should not say, I left it to home, but at home ; 
I ain't a going to set down, is not so well as I prefer 
not to sit down ; you hadn't ought, is not so well as 
you ought not ; he come slow, should be he came 
slowly ; I seen her lay down, would better be I saw 
her lie down • he clone it up first-rate, might as well 
be, he did it properly ; we ainH got none, might be, 
we have none, or we haven't any. Some persons 
are so unfortunate as to say attalded, drounded, ex- 
pect, for suspect, Hie for as, and adjectives for ad- 
verbs, generally, as He acted very polite and proper, 
but the dinners was miserable poor, and as no one 
could behave nobler than him, so I come, agreeable 
to his request. 

But we might easily fill a book with grammatical 
blunders, and inelegancies of speech. If your edu- 
cation has been neglected in this respect, find any 
good treatise on English Grammar, and first read it 
carefully through, from the first page to the last — 



CONVERSATION. 1*19 

Orthography, Etymology, Syntax, and Prosody, 
with all the rules and exercises ; then study such 
parts as are new to you, until you have mastered 
the subject. You can do this in one week, and it 
will be learning what will be a pleasure and satisfac- 
tion to you as long as you live. We sympathize 
with the man who had " as much learning as ever 
did him any good f but we must have some regard 
for justice, benevolence, and approbativeness. It is 
a crime to murder language ; it is cruel to torture 
the ears of our neighbors ; and the good opinion of 
those around us is worth taking a little pains for. 

There are thousands of worthy, and, in many 
things, intelligent people, whose worth and wisdom 
are totally unappreciated, and who find themselves 
neglected, because they have not attended to these 
niceties of language. Good society is an entertain- 
ment, to which good behavior is a ticket of admis- 
sion. 

An attention to the preceding observations will 
fit you for conversation, so far as this can be done 
by a proper use of the noble instrument of speech ; 
but it will not give you ideas, nor power of expres- 
sion. Conversation is the satisfaction of a great 
social want ; the passion for sympathy, friendship, 
love, or the various degrees of harmony of being. 
A clear pure life is a beautiful melody ; society. 
brings out the harmonies. Individuals unite to 
form groups, from the simplest and most monoto- 
nous, the couple or pair, up to the finest and most 
complex arrangements of large groups and series. 

Arid conversation, or the expression of thoughts, 
sentiments, aud passions, in speech, and its accom- 
panying and corresponding manifestations, is the 
business of society, as well as Us chief source of hap- 



180 CONVERSATIONAL EQUITY. 

piness. We see beautiful persons and things— we 
listen to divine music — we indulge in the poetry of 
motion, and the delicious and invigorating magnet- 
ism that is found in the spheres of attractive per- 
sons, but more than all, we converse. 

Let us then attend as thoroughly to this matter 
of conversation as our space will admit. The man- 
ner of conversation is very important, because the 
matter is much more so. To say a good thing is 
well ; to say it well is still better. Best of all is to 
say the best thing in the best manner. 

Modesty, or a prudent reserve, is the safe side in 
conversation. The volubility of a wit may be out of 
place and tiresome ; but the pertinacious volubility 
of dullness is a terrible bore. 

Talk equitably. Sustain your proper share of 
the conversation, neither shirking, nor monopolizing. 
Yet, some account must be made of difference in 
ability. As a strong man does more labor than a 
weak one ; as a rich man ought to give of his 
abundance ; so the highly intelligent and conversa- 
tionally gifted have a right to talk longer and 
oftener than persons without ideas or power of ex- 
pression ; such persons as run on with a perpetual 
clack of impertinences. 

If you have read much and remember what you 
have read ; if you have travelled much, and can de- 
scribe well what you have seen and heard ; if you 
have seen much of the world, and possess a fund of 
observation and anecdote ; or if you are simply a 
clear thinker, and can easily arrange your thoughts, 
and group them into a picturesque expression, you 
have a right to a large share of the conversation of 
any circle. 

But never forget the prime rule of all commerce, 



BASHFULNESS. 181 

material, intellectual, or passional. Let the supply 
be governed by the demand. Do not force your 
goods, of whatever kind, on an unwilling market. 
Do not catch people by the button-hole, or by their 
politeness. People may be long suffering, slow to 
anger, and of great kindness ; but they will be care- 
ful how they get caught a second time by a conver- 
sational bore. 

And you are to adapt the supply to the demand 
in quality as well as in quantity. If you bring to 
the social mart your philosophy, when fun is in de- 
mand ; if you attempt to put off your lightness when 
men ask profundity, you have brought your goods 
to a bad market. The observation, or anecdote 
which is admirable in one circle, or at one time, 
may be the reverse at another. 

Bashfulness, the awkwardness and painful embar- 
rassment of a large approbativeness and a small 
self-esteem, is to be struggled against and overcome. 
A man of worth soon finds his true value, by the 
exercise of his reason ; especially the faculty of 
comparison. 

Bashful persons are liable to run into the opposite 
extreme of impudence and bravado. This is worse 
than the other. It is much easier to encourage a 
modest man, than to subdue a forward one ; yet 
this may be done, and it is done readily and easily, 
by a lady. Feminine tact is generally a match for 
any amount of masculine audacity. 

When you are once acquainted, it is little matter 
if you have some foibles which your friends can 
laugh at. They may like you all the better ; but 
at first, people are apt to see nothing else. 

Let your words be as fit and well chosen as your 
clothes. Avoid coarseness and vulgarity in speech, 



182 THE FIRST SALUT/TION. 

as you would in costume. Dress your best thoughts, 
in words and phrases of corresponding beauty. 
Plain and homely subjects do not bear finery of ex- 
pression ; but a delicate sentiment may well be em- 
bellished with the flowers of rhetoric. 

The first salutation may decide your fate with 
respect to the person you salute. Boldness may 
disgust, bashfulness seem a confession of meanness. 
People are inclined to take you at your own esti- 
mate or price, unless you appear to set it too high, 
when they are put on their guard not to be cheated. 

Let your first address, then, be firm, quiet, digni- 
fied, cordial, but not too forward ; confident, but 
not presuming, and as easy, natural, and unaffected, 
in air, gesture, and language, as possible. There 
are people with whom you are acquainted and at 
your ease in two minutes. But such persons are 
entirely at ease with themselves ; entirely natural in 
their expression of themselves. They are what they 
seem, and seem, what they are. 

If you are cold and proud ; if you are careless 
and inattentive ; if you are affected and exaggera- 
tive ; if you are shy and stupid ; if you are presum- 
ing and impudent in your address, you can have no 
success in society worth having. You may, by some 
of these faults, impose on a few, but they are not 
those whose good opinion is of any value. 

Beware, at first, of all things, of being in any way 
ridiculous ; and beware of exaggeration. A style, 
tumid and turgid, magniloquent and bombastic, is 
ridiciuous, anywhere. We find it in the orations of 
S.o,i;iomores. Few men of sense have spoken or 
written in an inflated and bombastic style. And if 
splendor of diction, and melody of language may be 
allowed in writing, and in oratory, it is not adapted 



THE DECENCIES OF SPEECH. 183 

to conversation. Be rigidly correct, be elegant, 
even, but neither pedantic nor tawdry. In a mo- 
ment of passion, hurried away by some sentiment or 
enthusiasm, you may find a corresponding expres- 
sion, but there must be, for this, the preparation 
and the occasion — the demand. 

A man of fashion or of social refinement is very 
sparing in proverbs and vulgar sayings ; he does 
not deal in pet phrases, nor hard words ; he uses 
technicalities only when the subject demands, and 
the company admits them ; he avoids professional 
terms and illustrations ; he never talks slang, or 
only with a subdued drollery, as if it were something 
he had picked up, and brought along as a curiosity ; 
and he never offends good taste by any indecency 
or double entendre ; nor does he ever manifest the 
least consciousness, when such expressions are used 
by others. 

In our language, there are many words and 
phrases, quite proper in themselves, which prurient 
vulgarity has debased into indecent and equivocal 
meanings. Avoid these if you can ; but, if needful, 
use them simply and firmly. No pure-minded per- 
son will be shocked by the proper use of any proper 
word. Squeamishness is indecency. The niceness 
that discards the use o." pure and proper words, be- 
cause they may bear some vulgar signification, is an 
affectation that comes from nasty ideas. It is hard 
to conceive of any worse vulgarity. 

There may be women who have no legs^ who 
wear no petticoats, and who have no idea of shirt?. 
Bat these unfortunates are not to be found in good 
society. There, modesty is not a matter of calico, 
nor does virtue depend upon drapery. The woman 
who blushes at the sight of a nude statue or pic- 



184 



DANCING. 



ture, has need to blush again at her own impurity 
This false or mock modesty, we believe, is now pretty 
thoroughly exp'oded in all intelligent society. 

Our continental friends use much gesticulation in 
speaking. They talk with their heads, their shoul- 
ders, their eye-brows. The English use very little. 
Wishing to differ as much as possible from their 
" natural enemies," they have studied a quiet, cold 
manner ; and assume a style of perfect " repose." 
Repose is a fine thing. It has dignity, or the con- 
sciousness of power ; but vivacity and energy of ex- 
pression may also be line. When the English dance 
with solemn faces, stiff bodies, and immoveable 
arms, they seem like very badly made dancing dolls. 

The French style 
may be somewhat 
of the other ex- 
treme — a little 
over-strained, ex- 
aggerated, and 
theatrical ; but it 
is the genius of a 
nation, not more 
strong in emotions 
perhaps than oth- 
ers, but very hon- 
est in giving them a frank expression. 

The standard of true taste is probably something 
between English coldness and French vivacity. Re- 
pose is not inanity ; expression need not run into 
grotesque extravagances. But I would like to see 
some play of the features ; some flash and sparkle 
of the eye ; a pleasant smile or even a merry langh 
upon occasions ; and even graceful and appropriate 
gestures with th 3 hands and arms — those unfortu- 




DRAMATIC AND LYRIC ART. 



185 



nate members which most people find so much in 
the way, and which they have so much trouble in 
taking care of. If you do not use your hands in 
speaking — and it is best to be very moderate in 
this respect — place them in easy, unconstrained, and 
natural positions. 

In the dramatic 
and lyric art we 
have this force of 
external expression 
of all emotions, 
whether of pleasure ' 
or pain ; and it may 
be studied by those 
who have the oppor- 
tunity with much 
advantage, but it 
must be remember- 
ed that the same manner, which is full of beauty on 
the stage, either in speaking, or action, or dancing, 
would not be tolerated at all in private. 

The common principles of equity or justice preside 
over conversation. All principles are universal in 
their application. We have no more right to be 
intrusive, or despotic, or overbearing, or in any way 
dishonest in our conversation, than in any other 
mode of action. We have no more right to pass 
off a counterfeit sentiment or a false opinion, than 
we have a counterfeit note or a false coin. 

Conversation should, therefore, first of all, be 
honest. There is a certain allowance for irony, rail- 
lery, satire, and jocularity, as there is for games, 
sports, and pastimes ; but whatever purports to be 
an expression of fact, or opinion, or feeling, should 
be altogether truthful. 




186 CONVERSATIONAL EQUITY. 

To tell a falsehood, to mis-state or misrepresent 
any matter of fact, is quite as bad as to steal. !No 
gentleman will or can do it. The last insult is to 
be "accused of a lie. 

But must one always tell the truth ? " Render 
unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's." Tell the 
truth to whoever has a right to it. The truth is 
not to be spoken at all times, and there are many 
facts which people have no business to know. You 
are to be governed by the principles of justice and 
the highest good, rather than by a literal and tech- 
nical regard to the expression of facts. 

There are circumstances where the literal truth 
would be an actual falsehood — where to tell the 
truth would be the most unjust and ungentlemanly 
thing possible. Nay, it is not difficult to conceive 
of cases where a gentleman and a man of honor 
would be compelled to lie outright, and then swear 
to it. Why not, since there are cases in which an 
honest man must steal, and a humane man must 
kill? 

The necessity for concealment, falsehood, robbery, 
or homicide, arises in a perverse and discordant so- 
ciety ; candor, truth, honesty, and benevolence be- 
long to a state of social harmony, toward which we 
trust mankind is making sure progress. In the 
mean time, let us approximate that condition by all 
the frankness and sincerity that society will permit. 

There should be no disagreeable or shocking 
truths ; but as there are. a great many, we are not 
permitted to mention them in conversation. Bene- 
volence demands that we say nothing to injure the 
feelings of any person. When the claims of justice 
are stronger than those of benevolence, the latter 
must yield ; but justice must be tempered with 



UNPLEASANT SUBJECTS. 18t 

mercy. No plea of truthiulness or candor can ex- 
cuse rudeness and brutality. 

~No individual has a right to impose his ideas or 
opinions on another. Toleration of a wide variety 
is the demand of politeness, which is only an ele- 
gant form of justice. Hence positive assertions 
should be avoided, except as to some unmistakeable 
matter of fact within our own observation. It is 
better to say, " It seems to me" — "I should rather 
think" — "Might it not be objected?" A positive 
tone, and assumption of authority and infallibility, 
are often ridiculous, and always offensive. 

Conversation is intrusive, when we force people 
to discuss unpleasant subjects ; when we controvert 
settled opinions ; when we are prying and inquisi- 
tive. In England it is considered in bad taste to 
question the orthodoxy of the established church, 
and a great rudeness to do so in the presence of a 
clergyman. So we carefully avoid speaking, in a 
mixed company, of those misfortunes, crimes, or 
punishments, which may have overtaken the relatives 
of some present. Gentlemen seldom ask a direct 
question of any kind, and never respecting the affairs 
of another, without apology. Few persons like to 
be questioned ; nor is it needful. A well-directed 
observation will give a person an opportunity to tell 
you whatever he wishes to tell ; and you have no 
right to anything further. A friend, in the sacred- 
ness of the rights of such a relation, may urge us 
into so much frankness as will enable him to satisfy 
his friendly spirit, but in the general conversation of 
society, the absolute right of privacy, in thought and 
feeling, as well as of person, should never be lost 
sight of ; and we should no more question a man 
about his own affairs, than we would open his letters, 



188 A GOOD LISTENER. 

peep into his bed-chamber, or listen at his key- 
hole. 

To make a butt of any person, in company, to 
expose him to ridicule, or turn the laughter of the 
company against him, is as much an outrage as it 
would be to pull his nose, slap his face, or box his 
ears. It is only justifiable where it is a fair game 
that two can play at ; a contest of well-matched 
wits, who encounter like a couple of wrestlers or 
fencers. 

Fairness, and the equity of conversation, demand 
that you hear what others have to say, with patience 
and courtesy. You must not interrupt, and it ir 
better to let a man explain his own meaning badly 
than to anticipate him, and take the words out oi 
his mouth. Nay, you must allow a man to tell 
you the same story ten times over, if he will, with- 
out intimating that you have ever heard it. 

Talk as well as you may, there are few people 
who would not rather talk themselves, than listen. 
Learn to be a good listener. It requires patience, 
self-denial, kindness and deference ; but these vir- 
tues have their reward. If you have the tact to set 
a man or woman to talking ; if you lead them to 
speak of the subjects they know or think they know 
best ; though you may not say one word to their 
ten, they will give you credit for being a most intel- 
ligent and interesting person. 

Men of great genius and varied talent, may be 
almost entirely lacking in conversational powers 
Brilliant writers are often very poor talkers — shy, 
dull, silent, with no power of expression. On the 
other hand, an extreme volubility of small talk and 
common-places, often belongs to the utmost shallow- 
ness of mind. 



POWER IN CONVERSATION. 189 

There is a power in conversation, as in all modes 
of expression, which may be termed aromal or mag- 
netic. Certain persons impress us deeply with a 
few simple words, or a quiet gesture, or a mere look. 
The words are nothing, the action is but a slight 
and simple movement, yet there is a power in them 
to charm, to thrill, to subdue us. It is the force of 
the spirit, the magnetism of a strong and penetra- 
tive, or sympathetic soul. The same words from 
any other would not affect us. 

This power in an orator or an actor, is quite dis- 
tinct from his subject or his words. It is his own 
power. He may be speaking on any subject ; preach- 
ing any doctrine. It is an undoubted fact that this 
mysterious power is communicated to the manu- 
scripts of certain writers, and even to their printed 
works. How this is, we do not attempt to explain. 
We should be well satisfied, if we possessed this 
power; without trying very hard to understand it. 

Inattention, or the appearance of inattention to a 
person speaking to you, is very bad manners. You 
should not only listen, but should.- seem to do so ; 
and do nothing which can detract from that appear- 
ance. You need not continually replv, " yes," 

u all |» tt nQ „ u you don , t SBJ „ it do teli ), Thege 

exclamations have the benevolent intention of show- 
ing your interest in the speaker, and encouraging 
him to proceed, but they are something more than 
is requisite. Listen with a silent, thoughtful, inte-* 
rested or pleased attention. Look at the person 
who addresses you. Look him clear in the eye, or 
at least, watch the expression of his countenance. 

An absent-minded person has no business in com- 
pany. He had better make his body as absent as 
his mind. 



190 



"law, do tell I" 




law, do tell!' 



FACT, MA'AM I" 



When any person is speaking, in such a manner 
as to indicate his wish that the whole company 
should hear him, and in all cases where the conver- 
sation is general, it is a great rudeness to open a 
private conversation, either in alow tone or whisper 
with some person near you. Where there are not 
more than ten or twelve persons in company, the 
conversation had best be general. In a larger 



LONG TALKERS. 191 

party, there may be several groups, talking on dif- 
ferent subjects, but tete-a-tetes, or the private conver- 
sation of two persons, should be avoided. It is al- 
most as disrespectful to the rest of the company as 
for one person to go into a corner with a book. 

Though conversation is the chief business of most 
companies, it should not interrupt music. Any 
music worth hearing, or supposed to be worth hear- 
ing, is worth enjoying with silent attention. A 
person who endeavors to entertain an assembly, by 
playing or singing, is entitled to the compliment of 
a silent audience and suitable applause. If we do 
not like music ourselves, we have no right, by a 
buzzing conversation, to prevent the enjoyment of 
others. 

A long talker must be able to hold the exclusive 
attention of the company, to interest and satisfy 
all present, or he becomes a bore. Few persons can 
safely venture upon such an attempt. It is much 
better to lead the conversation into some channel ot 
varied and general interest — to bring out all talents, 
opinions, and illustrations- — to give every one an 
opportunity to say what he wishes to say — to con- 
duct the conversation, as the leader*of an orchestra 
conducts an overture, saying little yourself, per- 
haps, but directing and guiding others. This is a 
great social accomplishment ; it was one possessed 
in an eminent degree by the late Lady Blessing- 
ton — one which enabled her to attract and gather 
about her the finest intellects in Europe. 

Many admirable conversationists never argue or 
dispute. They assert the facts they know or believe 
to be true ; they propound such principles as they 
entertain ; they give opinions or make suggestions. 
If their facts are doubted or denied, they leave them 



192 DISPUTATION. 

to be settled by observation, testimony, or compe- 
tent authority. If their principles are questioned, 
they may state the science or analogies on which 
they are based. If their opinions are criticised, 
they only ask for the same toleration^ they give to 
others. Their suggestions and surmises are to be 
taken for what they are worth. 

But many persons are exceedingly fond of dispu- 
tation. It it a mental exercise — an exciting game — 
a kind of cerebral gymnastics. Within the bounds 
of good breeding, and so conducted as not to give 
annoyance to others, these discussions may be harm- 
less and even advantageous. But they can rarely 
be entered upon in general society. Men argue not 
to be convinced that they are in the wrong — not 
always to set others right, but to display their skill, 
or triumph in a contest. Even in public discussions, 
where two or more able men are pitted against each 
other, and the partisans of each combatant assemble 
to hear them, how few are ever converted from one 
side to the other ! 

In most discussions, we contend with prejudices, 
bigotries, and idiosyncrasies. People born and liv- 
ing neighbors grow up whigs and democrats ; Cath- 
olics and Protestants, or Unitarians and Trinitari- 
ans. How seldom do all the controversies continu- 
ally going forward, in private conversations, in the 
pulpit, and by means of the press, convert a relig- 
ionist to an opposite faith, or even a politician? 
How many Jews have been converted to Christian- 
ity, or vice versa ? 

Indeed, controverted questions of religion, poli- 
tics, and even morals, are almost banished from po- 
lite society, because they only give rise to angry, 
endless, and useless contests. 



ARGUMENT. 193 

Of what use is it to argue a week or a year on 
free will and fore-ordination, when you only stir up 
bigotries, and must end where you begun ? If your 
family is whig, or conservative, or democratic, or 
progressive, you were probably born with some pro- 
civilities that will keep you in .the same track. Men 
are born Catholics and Protestants, just as they are 
born Chinamen or Turks, Englishmen or Spaniards. 
The born and bred southerner has not the least com- 
prehension of either the ideas or feelings of the 
northern abolitionist. His relation to his slaves 
seems to him just as natural, and proper, and a 
thing of course, as his relation to his wife and chil- 
dren, and a year's steady arguing would not make 
him see the difference, though it might in the mean 
time make you both very angry. 

We have a school of philosophers who condemn 
marriage, and the whole system of the civilized 
family, as strongly and earnestly as any abolitionist 
condemns slavery. Their arguments, in fact, are 
almost identical. All the abolitionist can say of 
self-ownership, and self-government, and personal 
rights, as applied to negroes, they apply to women, 
the marriage institution, and the family ; but it 
must be evident that the discussion of such subjects 
in general society must shock and disgust all per- 
sons who believe in the moralities of the existing 
system. Whenever it is intended to discuss such 
subjects, the company should be selected for that 
purpose, and all who are invited should be apprised 
of the persons and conversation they may probably 
encounter. 

I The man of the world — the man of fashion — the 
woman of society, however, ought to be so much of 
a philosopher as to tolerate all honest opinions, and 



194 TOLERATION - . 

offend as few prejudices as possible. Politeness is 
truly cosmopolitan. It does not ask where one was 
born, or what he believes, nor even what he does, 
so long as it is his own personal affair. It only 
requires that he be a gentleman ; and one true gen- 
tleman can do nothing to offend another. A bigot 
cannot be a gentleman, for he must obtrude his own 
prejudices, and attack those of others. 

A certain degree of tolerance for a variety of 
opinions, manners and morals, adds to the interest 
of society, and prevents the necessity of excluding 
so many subjects that nothing remains to talk about. 
Doubtless the more there is of freedom and tolera- 
tion, the more interesting must be the conversation 
of any circle. 

Let us see, then, what subjects are quite safe for 
social and general conversation. We leave religion 
out of the question, because its discussions are often 
offensive, and seem, generally, useless. Politics are 
not often agreeable to ladies. They fail to under- 
stand the real differences between the principles of 
the opposing parties. General questions of morals, 
such as the propriety of being honest in business ; 
of usually telling the truth ; of paying one's debts ; 
or the sanctity of the marriage relation, and the 
guilt of those who offend against its requirements, 
are considered as being settled, and not to be dis- 
turbed. Whatever the private practices, or, even, 
the real opinions of persons in these matters may be, 
they are seldom questioned in society. 

But there is a wide range left to us ; the large 
domains of science, art, literature, poetry, the drama, 
and of the lighter social news and criticism. 

Here are subjects of infinite variety, and of won- 
drous beauty. They have things adapted to every 



SUBJECTS OF CONVERSATION. 195 

taste and comprehension. There are all the facts 
and lessons of Astronomy, Geology, Physics, and 
Natural History — a universe of interest and beauty. 
There are the new discoveries in science, and new- 
inventions in industry ; explorations of travellers, 
and observations of naturalists ; inventions and im- 
provements in industry, and the general progress of 
civilization. You may talk of statuary and pic- 
tures ; of ancient and modern art ; of poets and 
novelists, a wide and fruitful field for pleasant con- 
versation, especially if you have a good memory, and 
the discretion not to use it too freely. There is his- 
tory, with its analogies ; and the entire range of 
biography, with all its anecdotes of character and 
achievement. The modern sciences of Phrenology, 
Galvanism, Magnetism, and the recent or more care- 
fully-observed phenomena of Psychology, Psychom- 
etry, &c, are very fertile, interesting, and instruc- 
tive subjects for conversation. 

Surely, in so wide a range, a man of any intelli- 
gence can find subjects adapted to every capacity 
and every taste. 

But, in order to avail yourself of these, you must 
know what you are talking about. You must read, 
reflect, and observe. Store your mind with what- 
ever of knowledge may be of use to you. Read for 
yourself first, but let your reading benefit others. 
If you have not time to read yourself, or if you 
have not the faculty or disposition to acquire ideas 
by that method, make a good use of the reading of 
others. Credit enables you to use the purses of 
your acquaintances. Skill in conversation gives you 
the advantage of all their knowledge, experience, 
and wisdom — with this difference. A man may not 
always find it convenient to lend you his money— 



1 96 COMPLIMENTS 

he may fear the possibility that it may not ever 
come back ; but there are few misers in knowledge. 
It is an element of universal enlightenment, and the 
world's progress, that as soon as a man gets a new 
idea or thought of any kind, his greatest anxiety 
and happiness is to impart it to others. Since the 
days of St. Paul, the citizens of all civilized coun- 
tries, as of Greece, have been anxious to hear and 
tell some new thing. 

But there are very amiable people in society, who 
have little knowledge of literature, less of art, and 
of science none at all. There is left to them still a 
wide range in the art of pleasing. There is an in- 
finity of pleasing compliments to be paid to all 
ladies, who are beautiful, or who think they are. 
There are witticisms, jests, and even puns and co- 
nundrums. 

Some people " detest compliments/ 7 they tell you. 
It is a mistake. They only detest some rude, and 
unskillful way you have of paying them. A bald 
flattery, thrown in your face, when others are stand- 
ing bye to see how you will take it, is rather apt to 
diseoncert a modest person. But a delicately flat- 
tering insinuation, an interest, an emotion; any 
nice and well adapted expression of good feeling or 
good opinion, is not likely to be detested. 

Flattery is offensive when it exposes you to the 
envy of others, or when you have good reason to 
doubt its sincerity, or suspect its purpose ; but few 
persons are really offended with the most direct and 
least delicate praise, if it has the appearance of 
being sincere. 

Should we flatter, then ? If you mean, should 
we falsely and hypocritically praise people for qual- 
ities they do not possess ? I answer, no, of course 



DESERVED COMPLIMENTS. 19T 

not. But if you mean, shall we express the admi- 
ration we feel for beauty or taleut, or accomplish- 
ment ? I say, yes. Common justice demands it. It 
is not even honest to withhold deserved praise. If 
a woman is well dressed, you do not scruple to com- 
pliment her taste ; to say that her bonnet is charm- 
ing, her dress becoming, her ornaments elegant. If 
she is beautiful in form and feature, will you repress 
your admiration ? Your eye, your manner, the 
tones of your voice will tell her, as plainly as any 
words can do, " 0, madam, how charming you seem 
to me !" 

If you can venture to be natural ; to say just 
what you think, when what you think happens to 
be agreeable, there is no compliment too direct. 
You may, in this way, say, " Madam, you are so 
beautiful, that it is a happiness to look at you I" 
Is there a true woman in the world who could be 
offended, if she believed you sincere ? 

But there are a hundred ways of paying compli- 
ments, less direct and quite as effectual. They be- 
long to the great art of pleasing, which it may be 
well for you to learn and practice. 

The art of pleasing. Does it seem vain and use- 
less ? It may put no money in your purse. It may 
not add to your broad acres, nor swell your divi- 
dend paying stocks. It may have none of this 
solid character. But it may make you and others 
happier. I happen to think that is worth some- 
thing. I believe in whatever comes to that result. 

You think well of yourself, doubtless ; with all 
your deficiencies and all your faults, you are still of 
some importance to yourself ; and the good opinion 
of others is also something to you. You think 
more of the good sense and penetration of any one 



198 DISPLAY AND BOASTING. 

whose opinion of you corresponds with your own. 
Is it not apparent, then, that much of the art of 
pleasing consists of making others pleased with 
themselves? Much of our happiness consists in a 
good opinion of ourselves, and in the consciousness 
of ' possessing the good opinion of others — in the 
satisfaction of self-esteem and approbativeness. 

He who evidently talks for display, seldom wins 
the applause he seeks. Even on the stage, we do 
not like to have our artistes seem too solicitous for 
applause, nor acknowledge it too greedily. Above 
all, do not outshine others, or, at least, never be- 
tray the consciousness that you have done so. 
Have more respect to the inevitable amour propre. 

No one likes to be humbled, as they are by being 
instructed before others ; and in any case it is as 
well to communicate any information, as something 
already known, or forgotten. If this seems dishon- 
est, it is no more so than nearly every delicacy of 
society, the toleration of prejudices, the concealment 
of defects, &c. 

When possible, avoid all egotisms, and never 
make yourself the hero of your conversation or sto- 
ry ; or if you do, let it be with a modest drollery. 
You will not, of course, be so ridiculous as to boast; 
but the opposite is 'nearly as bad, where you seem 
to be fishing for compliments, which will be paid 
with a bad grace. 

There is, perhaps, no purer pleasure than conver- 
sation with a person of superior intellect, with whom 
you are also in some sympathy of feeling. These 
accords exist between persons of different sexes, 
but as often and quite as purely, between those of 
the same. 

If you have not had the advantages of travel, 



TRUTHFULNESS. 199 

converse as often as you have opportunity with those 
who have. 

Be true : act as truly as you can. Speak as 
much truth, as the society around you will permit. 
There is so much that is false in the constitution 
and conditions of society, that truth, instead of 
being in harmony with it, is in sad discordance. 
Probably the test of a perfect society, would be the 
possibility of every person being truthful. Truth, 
and honesty, and justice are ideal perfections, which 
we must aspire to, and approximate. 

Avoid hyperbole in language, and the use of the 
common exaggerations of speech. If a pink is mag- 
nificent, what term have you for the rose ? In the 
statement of any matter of fact, be as precise as 
possible. In your opinions, avoid strong and ex- 
aggerative expressions. In a humorous narrative, 
indeed, there is much license, and where falsehood 
is fun, it is no longer false. The essence of a lie, is 
the intent to injuriously deceive. The falsehood 
which deceives no one, or, if it deceives, injures no 
one, it would be very harsh to call a lie. 

There is a school of socialists, who believe in the 
efficacy of free criticism in the correction of social 
abuses. Scandal must have some beneficent pur- 
pose, or it would not be so universal. Probably its 
great wrong arises from another — the assumption 
of people to not only criticise but control the affairs 
and lives of their neighbors. Let it be understood 
that there must be universal toleration of free 
thought, and free action, in every merely personal 
matter, and scandal loses all power for mischief. 
The reply to all scandal is — "Well, what are you 
going. to do about it?" If nothing can be done, it 
matters little what is said. 



200 BEARING FALSE WITNESS. 

There is a social criticism, entirely just and need- 
ful. Whoever trespasses upon the rights of others, 
deserves reprobation, repression, and even retribu- 
tion. If any act of my life is truly the business of 
another, let him attend to it. If my act is a tres- 
pass upon his right, and an infliction of a wrong, 
then he has the right to meet, repel, condemn, and 
punish. But if my act is purely my own, and does 
not concern him, then it is simply none of his busi- 
ness, and whosoever criticises or condemns it, is 
himself the offender, and himself deserves to be pun- 
ished. 

All the trouble about scandal and social tittle 
tattle arises entirely from people not understanding 
what is, and what is not their own business. Our 
rights need to be defined. There is no objection to 
any suitable censure of what is somebody's wrong. 

As to making the affairs of others a matter of 
conversation, there can be little objection, unless it 
is done in a censorious and condemnatory spirit. 
Few people would be unjust, if they only had some 
clear ideas of justice. 

The commandment given by Moses, and a viola- 
tion of which was punishable by death, was " Thou 
shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor." 
You may bear witness — but let it be true and need- 
ful. To justify a presumed libel, you must be able 
to show that what you published was true, and that 
you did it from good motives, and for justifiable 
ends. You cannot be justified in saying even what 
is perfectly true of me, if it is said with malice, or 
the intent to injure me. You are not to say it 
unless the probable benefit will outweigh the proba- 
ble injury. 

Perhaps I have met with misfortunes ; my father 



ADHESION TO PRINCIPLE. 201 

was hanged, my brother went to state prison, I 
have myself been in some heavy disgrace. You 
know these facts ; you know that you have only to 
whisper them abroad, to destroy a character and 
social position which I have acquired by years of 
the most unexceptionable conduct. You have a 
right to warn your friends against any probable in- 
jury from me ; but you have no right, except from 
absolute necessity, to reveal what you may chance 
to know of my misfortunes, or even of crimes, long 
past, and heavily atoned for. 

But, while thus careful, even in extreme cases, 
not to do injustice, we are not required to praise 
every body, or to refrain from just judgment. We 
are to speak evil of persons, when the good of 
others demands it. We are to be just, and brave, 
in commending the true and condemning the false ; 
but we should speak of principles rather than acts, 
and of acts rather than persons. 

When a gentleman gives his adhesion to a prin- 
ciple, no exception can be taken. He has the right 
to govern his conduct by what he holds to be just 
and right. If you reject his principles, you reject 
him, whose life is their expression, but without 
offence. In this there is no offensive personality. 

To pretend to approve of what is offensive to 
you ; to defend what is odious ; to make a display 
of your charity or good nature, by commending 
what is false in taste, bad in execution, or wrong in 
principle ; — can never raise you in the estimation of 
any person of judgment. 

It has been said — it has been believed, perhaps, 
that the rules of politeness and the principles of 
morality were at variance. But they do not differ 
by the breadth of a hair. Whatever is really im- 



202 POLITENESS AND MORALITY. 

polite is really immoral ; and whatever thing is 
moral or right to do under the circumstances of 
any case, cannot offend against politeness, unless it 
be in the manner of doing ; and a bad manner is 
immoral to the extent of its importance. I do not 
believe that a single instance can be brought to the 
contrary in the whole circle of human affairs. 

It is right that you should be very careful in 
judging of characters, for we know little of the 
hidden excellences and real goodness of the people 
around us. Social discords bring out the worst 
points of character ; and those who seem very un- 
pleasant and evil, in their present conditions, by a 
little change might develop the most unexpected 
qualities. If a person, fitted for one position in life, 
is taken and thrust into another, what good can you 
expect of such disarrangement, but a correspond- 
ing dis-harmony ? Those who know most of human 
nature find least to blame in individual character, 
and most in the repressions and despotisms of social 
institutions. 

A gentleman, and more especially a lady, cannot 
deal in private scandal. If any person brings you 
a scandalous story of another, perhaps the first 
question to be asked respecting it is this, Is this 
matter any one's business but that of the person 
accused ? If this question is really answerable in 
the affirmative, the next will be, Is it any affair of 
mine ? If it be, attend to it ; but if not, you 
have only to politely receive what is said, suggest 
any possible doubt or explanation that may occur 
to you, and say no more about it. Or you may ask 
with an air of interest and sympathy, " My friend, 
this matter seems to affect you much ; is there any- 
thing I can do for you V* 



PRIVATE SCANDAL. 203 

We are told to "be careful how we repeat in one 
company what we hear in another." That depends 
upon whether it is something proper to be repeated. 
We hear many things which we can scarcely repeat 
too often. Generally, the things not to be repeat- 
ed are such as ought not to have been said. But 
not always, since what is quite proper for one com- 
pany may be altogether out of place in another. 
Circumstances, which may seem to you indifferent, 
may bear other constructions, and the reputation of 
a tattler is by no means a pleasant one. 

If you find yourself slandered, boldly and 
promptly set yourself right, if you consider it of 
sufficient consequence. If you can trace the charge 
to a man, make him retract, and apologize ; but if 
to a woman, as is most likely, what can you do ? 
You must offer to explain. But it is hardly ever 
worth while to follow up the stories that are set 
afloat, circulated, and exaggerated by well meaning 
but idle people, or by censorious and mischievous 
ones. 

Slander is rife wherever the opinions of a man or 
woman conflict with popular prejudices. I know 
persons of entirely honest and moral lives, who for 
holding some heterodox notions in religion or social 
science, have been scandalized over half a continent, 
and accused of the most enormous and impossible 
offences. There seems to be nothing to be done in 
such a case, but to live on in the quiet dignity of a 
true life. The most painful thing in the life and 
writings of Washington, is the annoyance he ex- 
pressed, in the latter years of his life, at the slan- 
ders of his enemies — slanders that his complaints 
only have preserved to posterity. 

The domestic affairs of the absent ; how nus 



204 OF SLANDER. 

bands and wives live together ; and the relations of 
parents and children, lovers, &c., are not for general 
conversation. They are reserved for those little 
private dishes of gossip which some people seem to 
enjoy so much, and which are perfectly innocent — 
when they do no mischief. 

Even in the most general conversation, there is a 
certain tact and delicacy to be used. One should 
not speak too strongly in praise of commercial 
honor in presence of a bankrupt ; nor insist too 
strongly upon consistency, where there may proba- 
bly be persons who have changed sides in politics or 
religion. Of course you would be considered ironi- 
cal and insulting. 

It is not needful to praise very strongly the 
knowledge or skill of one man to another who may 
possess similar qualifications ; and it is decidedly 
imprudent to be extravagant in your encomiums on 
the beauty of any lady's most particular friend. If 
you say, " He is the lawyer for you; he is what you 
may call a man of splendid talent ;" it is as much 
as to say, " You, unfortunately, are not :" and 
when you say to a lady, " Mrs. N. is really beauti- 
ful, the most superb woman I ever saw," she would 
be perfectly justified in knocking you down- — if her 
fan were heavy enough to do it. 

One of the most unamiable and suspicious, or 
silly characters a man can have, is that of being 
mysterious. If you are, you ought not to seem so. 
Assume a virtue, if you have it not ; try to appear 
frank, even if you feel mysterious, and don't really 
know what you think or how yon feel. It is no 
worse to assume the expression and appearance of a 
virtue, than of health, or comfort, or happiness. 
We need not obtrude our poverty, either physical 



MAGNANIMITY. 205 

or moral, upon the public observation. The man 
who can conceal a pain, or a sorrow, or a remorse, 
may do better than to afflict others needlessly with 
either. 

If, as a rule, it is best not to argue, to refuse 
to do so — to coldly or haughtily refuse to examine 
a question, or to defend your own opinions, may be 
very offensive. A man should be ready at any pro- 
per time, and always in a calm, polite, and proper 
manner, to give the reason for any opinion he may 
entertain, and even with moderation to defend his 
principles or conduct. Those who always and ab- 
solutely refuse to give reasons, make us strongly 
suspect that they have none to give. 

The man or woman who is conscious of powers 
of wit, sarcasm, or ridicule, should use them care- 
fully and with magnanimity. Do not attack the 
weak, especially if absent. These are weapons for 
the strong — for tyrants and tyrannies. Never at- 
tack those who are precluded by their position from 
reply. Do not strike one who is bound, or in any 
way powerless. Seek a foeman worthy of your 
steel. 

Command yourself ; the man who is liable to fits 
of passion ; who cannot control his temper, but is 
subject to ungovernable excitements of any kind, is 
always in danger. The first element of a gentle- 
manly dignity is self-control. An energetic man 
who can control himself, is likely to be fit to com- 
mand others. This quality is to be acquired when 
it is wanting ; and it may be, to an extraordinary 
degree, by a steady effort to bear up against small 
annoyances. We knew a man of impetuous tem- 
per, who learned to control it thoroughly, by the 
frequent breaking of the strings of his violin. A 



206 SELF-COMMAND. 

dull razor, to one who shaves, must also be good 
practice ; and an ancient philosopher found much 
benefit from a scolding wife. The last remedy, 
however, may be as bad as the disease. 

A gentleman, a man of true dignity, is never 
laughed at, unless he chooses to laugh at himself. 
Certainly it never occurs to him to imagine that 
people are laughing at him, or in any way making 
him a subject of ridicule. It is the clown of the 
play, who says : " I knew they were talking of me, 
for they laughed consumedly." If you have the 
misfortune to be fearful of the opinions of others, 
apprehensive of ridicule, jealous, or testy, do not 
let it be known. Conceal it as carefully as you 
would any personal defect. 

But if there is anything that you do not know, 
and wish to have explained, never remain in igno- 
rance. Frankly ask some one, or any one to tell 
you anything you wish to know. Every one who 
can do so will be glad of the opportunity, even 
though they may not think you really so ignorant 
as you pretend ; and will thank you perhaps for 
giving them an opportunity to display their know- 
ledge. 

If your memory is imperfect, it is well to note, in 
a little memorandum book, kept for that purpose, 
any anecdote you may meet in your reading, or any 
bon mot, that may add to the pleasure of a conver- 
sation. Some persons, with stores of anecdote, can 
never recall one at the moment. Others who know 
a hundred songs by heart, will not be able to think 
of one when asked to sing. I have known such 
persons to make memorandums on their thumb nails. 

Conversation should be voluntary. People ought 
not to be compelled to talk or listen, any more than 



A SOCIAL PIRATE. 



20T 



to trade. True, the British did force opium on the 
Chinese, and we, by a show of a strong force,_ have 
compelled the Japanese to be polite to us ; still the 
man who collars a listener, or even holds him by 
the button, while he relates his grievances, is little 
better than 




A SOCIAL PIRATE. 

Much of the conversation of general society, and 
even of our more intimate acquaintances, seems 
very frivolous. It consists of salutations, congratu- 
lations, condolences, and little matters of ceremony. 
It is a discussion of the weather, in which no infor- 
mation is expected or possible. It is asking the 
news, which both have read in the same morning 
paper. Perhaps it turns on music, the theater, 
actors and singers, families, marriages, deaths, the 
health of acquaintances, their prospects in life, par- 
ticularly in regard to property. It is said that you 



208 PURPOSE OF CONVERSATION". 

can never listen to any conversation in America 
five minutes without hearing something said of dol- 
lars. There is much talk on agriculture and horti- 
culture, which is often sensible and improving ; also 
on food and wines. 

But the true purpose of conversation is not so 
much to talk, as many suppose. It is not the com- 
munication of ideas — for in most cases no ideas are 
communicated. In nine cases out of ten, conversa- 
tion is but the excuse for that nearness or relation 
of persons who are attracted to each other, neces- 
sary to their enjoyment of a mutual sympathy. A 
man or woman may have no ideas for me ; I want 
none ; but he has a personal magnetism or sympa- 
thetic attraction that pleases and strengthens me. 
He brings me spiritual food. I feast upon him. 
What we say to each other is merely the excuse for 
what cannot be said — what is " better felt than ex- 




CHAPTER XIII. 

CONVERSATIONAL ERRORS. 

®Bfe fiyiP* SS^hile this subject is fresh in 

^BL JoBfL r* our mm d s > we ma y as we ^ 

H flB fr ^WR T &* ve a f ew hints respecting 
JSBjp/ ^Hf^jr some conversational errors 
^RBjT iKt that ^ w ^ ^e an advantage 
ff w to any lady or gentleman 

to avoid. Few persons are entirely free from them. 
When you see a friend in the street, in a public 
room, or any large company, it is best not to hail 
him, or call out his name, so as to attract to him 
the attention of the company. To a bashful man, 
few things are more trying. Besides, there may be 
many good reasons why he may not wish to be pub- 
lished in this way. It is barely possible that a 
creditor may be waiting to dun him, or an officer 
seeking to serve a process. In any case it is a 
great impropriety. 

Even to address a person, lady or gentleman, by 
name, in a mixed company, where there are stran- 
gers to you both, is not pleasant. " Oh ! Mr. Pop- 
kins ! Good morning, Mr. Popkins- ! How are 
you, Mr. Popkins ? How is Mrs. Popkins V and 
so on ; while you see, or fancy you see, malicious 
smiles flitting over the faces of bystanders ; who 
U 



210 THE CASE OF MR. BLOSSOM. 

will now require no further introduction to Mr. 
Popkins. 

Is it not just as easy to quietly speak to one, 
without calling his name, or making this public 
parade ? A lady is entitled to still more considera- 
tion ; and for the most obvious reasons, her name 
is not to be " taken in vain " in any such fashion. 

Akin to this rudeness is a public conversation 
about private business. If you choose to advertise 
your own calling, conversationally, it is your own 
affair ; but you have no right to do any such adver- 
tising for another. Mr. Blossom is a pork packer, 
down by Washington market ; he makes plenty of 
money, and in the summer, when business is dull, 
takes his wife and daughters to Saratoga. You 
meet him, on the piazza of the United States Ho- 
tel, after dinner ; and in your loudest tones, cry 
out : "Hullo, Blossom ! Why, old fellow, how are 
you? Pork's dull, this weather, eh?" The dan- 
dies stare ; the belles bite their lips ; Blossom turns 
very red in the face, and is, henceforth, your mortal 
enemy. The fact is, he ought to cane you on the 
spot ; and any intelligent jury would return a ver- 
dict of served you right. 

It is a vulgarity to distinguish people to whom or 
of whom you speak, by the initials of their sur- 
names, as Mr. A., Mrs. B., or the Misses C. It is 
an artifice, resorted to by some kind hearted per- 
sons, not quite deficient in proper instincts, to avoid 
the worse errors above noticed. But really well- 
bred people do not speak in this manner. When it 
is proper to use a name at all, they use the entire 
and proper name. 

Avoid nicknames. Do not get one yourself, if 
you can help it ; and as you would, of course, do as 



SLANG. 211 

you would be done by, you will not impose them 
upon others. Tom is very well, for a fast young 
man ; but when he has sown his wild oats, and set- 
tles into a grave man of business ; a lawyer, a judge 
perhaps, or legislator, then Tom or Tommy may not 
have altogether so pleasant a sound. 

"The man who hails you Tom or Jack," may be 
a very friendly, good fellow ; but his method of 
showing it may not be always agreeable. A nick- 
name is sometimes an affectionate, petting designa- 
tion ; but it is more often contemptuous. 

Slang, by-words, catch-words, and popular say- 
ings, are to be indulged in with great caution. 
They supply the lack of ideas or the want of wit, to 
most people. It is best, in all companies where 
good manners are expected, not to make them your 
reliance. It may be very true, as a general or sta- 
tistical fact, that "Jordan's a hard road to travel." 
It may be entirely in order to ask a young lady, 
" Does your mother know you're out?" Doubtless 
there is great energy in the exhortation, " Go it, 
while you're young !" It may be exceedingly clever 
to be able to assure some "grave and reverend seign- 
or" that he is unquestionably a "Jolly old brick 1" 
but it is very doubtful whether you would thereby 
rise in their estimation, or your own. Slang, used 
prudently, and in moderation, and with a nice 
adaptation to circumstances, is often droll ; it is 
sometimes very funny ; but your position must be 
very well assured, as a gentleman, before you can 
afford to seem to be, even for a moment, a black- 
guard. 

As a rule, it is best not to swear. There is cer- 
tainly a wide-spread prejudice against the use of 
profane language. There is said to be a law against 



212 PROFANITY. 

it in some states, though it is not often enforced. 
In many circles it is considered inelegant or impro- 
per ; and some think it wicked. Some gentlemen, 
who ordinarily indulge in those ornamental exple- 
tives, are careful not to swear before ladies ; others 
limit their conversational embargo to the ear-shot 
of clergymen. 

We need not discuss the wickedness of what is 
called profanity, but only its taste, as, whatever is 
in bad taste, is wicked enough to be discarded. The 
French and Germans use the name of God, and 
appeal to him with exceeding familiarity. They 
also honor the devil by frequent reference. The 
English damn their eyes and their souls with great 
-unction. Mr. Emerson says profanity is the popular 
recognition of the deity — a sort of recognition that 
most religious persons would willingly dispense 
with. Whatever may be the use or necessity of 
strengthening our language on certain occasions, 
and in dealing with certain people, one fact is pow- 
erfully significant as to its " gentility." Profanity 
would not be tolerated in any polite assembly, a 
dinner, evening party, ball, or among the audience 
at a theater. If a lady swears, it is where she 
knows she will be indulged in such an eccentricity ; 
if a gentleman swears, he chooses time, place, and 
circumstances proper for such expressions, and care- 
fully avoids them at all others. The sin is another 
account, which each one must settle with his con- 
science. 

Few men or women are able to always speak the 
truth. In fact, the literal truth may be an actual 
falsehood. Doctors deceive their patients ; lawyers 
make a business of misleading judges and deceiving 
jurors ; politicians deceive friends and enemies ; 



OFFENSIVE SUBJECTS. 213 

merchants deceive their customers ; speculators of 
all kinds stop at no profitable deception in the way 
of business ; "yet are they all, all honorable men." 
And they are just as honorable and just as honest 
as the system in which they are acting will permit 
them to be. Men a^e better than their institutions; 
and liberty is said to be "the power of man over 
his accidents." 

Be good ; be honest ; be honorable ; be truthful. 
Let this be the fact of your being, and it will, as 
far as possible, be the expression of your doing. 
There is no absolute rule of an external life but 
this — mean well, and do the .best you can ; and 
whenever a sacrifice is worth making, make it 
bravely. Be a martyr, when martyrdom will be 
the best investment. But you are not to be the 
slave of punctilios, and forms, and words. 

Apropos to pork and Mr. Blossom. You are not 
only to "sink the shop," and avoid allusion to the 
past or present occupations of persons, but always 
to avoid offensive subjects. Especially at table do 
not allude to any matter of possible disgust. As 
you would not bring upon the dinner or tea table 
anything which would affect the company unplea- 
santly, so you have no right to mention it. You 
must not talk of any sickness, or disease, or medi- 
cine, or operation in surgery ; nor of battles and 
wounds ; nor of the details of personal injuries and 
deformities ; nor of harsh or repulsive things, calcu- 
lated to wound the feelings, hurt the appetite, or 
impede digestion. Eating should be surrounded 
with beauty, peace, and even hilarity. 

Persons who discard animal flesh from their diet, 
often become very much disgusted with its presence 
or even mention ; but they have no right to obtrude 



214 A RULE OF CONVERSATION. 

their notions upon others without regard to time 
and place. The vegetarian lady who at a dinner 
table characterized mince pie as "chopped corpse 
and apples," lost as much credit for good manners 
as she gained for her wit. It is better at any time 
to avoid allusion to the recent gelation of the food 
before you, as the ideas suggested by many popular 
articles of food are not altogether pleasant. You 
will do well not to be talking of clogs when people 
are eating sausages ; nor call attention to cats when 
the dish is supposed to be rabbit or hare. Also, 
to skip this paragraph, if you are reading aloud in 
company, and reserve it for your own private edifi- 
cation. 

An author on manners gives as a rule of conver- 
sation that " you are never to say anything which 
any one in the company would have wished unsaid." 
This is rather a strong negation. There are per- 
sons squeamish and particular out of all reason ; 
and such a rule, rigidly carried out in a numerous 
company, might narrow down the scope of your 
remarks to an uncomfortable degree. Try the 
reverse of this rule- — as it is a poor one which will 
not work both ways. Thus, " Never omit to say 
what any one in the company would wish to have 
said." We cannot vouch for it either way. 

Young ladies, in the nervousness of a want of 
perfect self-possession, are liable to fall into an 
affected tittering or an hysterical "he ! he !" which 
fills the pauses of all their sentences. You will 
hear a very nice, pretty girl running on in this ab- 
surd fashion : " Good morning, he ! he ! Charming 
morning, isn't it ? he ! he ! he ! Where have you 
been this ever so long? he ! he ! he ! I never ex- 
pected to see you again ! he ! he ! he ! Poor Mrs. 



INTERJECTIONS. 215 

Thompson ! what a sad misfortune that was ! he ! 
he! he!" etc. 

"When you laugh, don't talk ; and when there is 
talking to be done, be sure and not laugh. Smile 
if you please, and there is occasion for it. You 
need not look 




ABSOLUTELY STUPID. 



Of profane expletives, the damns and curses, the 
oaths, asseverations, and abjurgations of conversa- 
tion, we have ventured to give an opinion ; but 
there is another class of conversational expletives, 
classed by grammarians under the head of interjec- 
tions, such as Oh ! Ah ! Alas ! Gracious ! Lor ! 
Bless us ! Pshaw ! Gosh ! Thunder ! Jehosaphat ! 
and so on. Philosophers and philologists are rather 
inclined to the opinion that primitive language con- 
sisted altogether in the use of such exclamations ; 
and it is certain that they form a large and well 
used portion of the vocabulary of many persons. 
They are luxuries to be used with moderation ; and 
the vulgar and slang additions to the standard col- 
lection may very well be left to those whose poverty 
of language and wit requires such expedients. 

When a bevy of young girls get together in a 
corner, you may look out for a general giggle. The 



216 DISTRESSING CONSEQUENCES. 

cause is a mystery, and all mysteries are in bad 
taste. You should no more laugh in company, 
without explaining what you are laughing at, if it is 
not evident, than you should whisper or express any 
violent emotion. A gentleman sitting by himself in 
a drawing-room, with half a dozen girls in a corner 
all giggling together, presents a very forlorn and 
pitiable subject for contemplation. 

In performing the duties of hospitality, the lady 
of the house must refrain from any conversation of 
absorbing interest. To attend to the service of a 
dinner table, and be engaged at the same time in a 
"desperate flirtation," or to attempt to pour out 
tea in the drawing room, with an interesting cava- 
lier at your elbow, is very likely to lead to 




DISTRESSING CONSEQUENCES. 

" Clear your mind of cant," is the excellent ad- 
vice of a sturdy old thinker. Clear your conversa- 
tion of everything like cant. You have a perfect 
right to your own ideas of religion, morality, and 
propriety. When your opinion is required, or ex- 
pected, supply modestly and properly any real de- 
mand. But there is no rudeness more offensive 



CANT. 21 1 

than the obtrusion of your own peculiar notions 
of sectarian faith. You may very honestly believe 
that the persons around you who do not belong to 
your church will infallibly be damned ; but it would 
be shockingly impolite to tell them so. Fashion 
and the constitution of the United States recognize 
the right of any person to be damned, if he chooses 
to be, and it is highly improper, in a free country, 
for you to interpose any personal objection. Seri- 
ously, differences in religion, and in opinions on 
morals connected therewith, are personal matters of 
such delicacy that they can only be broached by 
asking and obtaining leave. To question a Catho- 
lic or Protestant, a Mohammedan or a Mormon, in 
regard to his peculiar belief, is bad manners ; and 
to attempt to convert him to your own without his 
consent, is little less than an outrage. The single 
and simple rule of politeness is universal toleration. 

In all your expressions, endeavor to be clear, 
smooth, precise, without affectation, formality, or 
verbosity. Don't hum, and haw ; spacing out your 
words with an er-er, while thinking what to say. 
Try and have no tiresome hesitations. Don't begin 
a story of which you have forgotten the end, or 
which you remember so indistinctly that you seem 
to be making it up as you go along. Don't mix it 
up with " says I," and " says she ;" "I said, says I," 
and " she said, says she," a hundred times repeated, 
to make out a clacking volubility, like an alarum 
clock, which, when once started off, keeps dinging 
at you until it is run down. Be careful how you 
start such a talking machine. 

Vain glory ; a boastful manner ; a pompous ac- 
count of your own exploits, or charities, or great 
deeds of any kind, is to be avoided. If you have 



218 



VIOLENT EMOTIONS. 



really achieved something wonderful, you cannot 
state the fact too modestly. If it is a matter about 
which you have a genuine enthusiasm, some allow- 
ance may be made for you. If for instance you are 
a naturalist, and have found a new butterfly, you 
can show it, in a glass case ; or if you are an as- 
tronomer, and have actually discovered a new 
comet, there can be no objection to your bringing 
it along, holding it carefully 




BY THE TAIL 

" Oh ! I was so mad !" 
is an expression that in- 
volves several absurdities. 
Mad people are sent to 
lunatic asylums. You 
ought not to be obliged 
to confess even to anger. 
"Violent emotions are not 
becoming. Well bred 
people shrink from their 
expression. All that De- 
mosthenes says of action 
may apply very well to 
the strong debates and 




BEAUTIES OF EXPRESSION. 



219 




passionate appeals of tumultuous popular assem- 
blies ; but they are not fitted to the polished and 
utterly self-possessed de- 
meanor of elegant society. 
Express a sentiment by the 
most fitting words ; but be- 
ware of the corresponding 
gestures, if you are at all 
in earnest. 

Beware even of those 
slighter and calmer exhibi- 
tions of study and thought, 
which, however natural, 
may make you a subject of 
imitation and ridicule. 

And especially avoid the 
public exhibition of those harrowing emotions, 
those tragical experiences, and that general, broken 
hearted desolation, and 
agony of hair, and arms, 
and shirt collar, and cra- 
vat, common to young 
poets, artists, and other 
tremendous geniuses, who 
find no other way to ex- 
press the deep and burn- 
ing inspirations of their 

souls, and go about mak- ^* ^ls Ik « ) "^V 
ing a figure of themselves 
in this horrible manner. 

Those unfortunate in- , 
divicluals who suppose ^^Sjf ^kL, I Y& 
that Byron went to Al- 
mack's as gloomy and 
misanthropic as any of his poetical heroes ; or who 




220 



PRIVATE THEATRICALS. 




go to the opera, and fancy they must carry the en- 
tirely artistic and truly effective manner of the stage 
into the drawing-room, make a capital, and some- 
times very ridiculous mistake. 

A queen of tragedy upon the stage may vocifer- 
ate or sing, with a drawn dag- 
ger, and may even stab and 
kill herself, or her husband, or 
her lover, if she is jealous 
enough to justify such an assas- 
sination ; but if she should 
carry her conception of the 
part into the drama of life, in- <- 
stead of being applauded with 
gloved hands and wet handker- 
chiefs, she would probably be 

taken off to the near- 
est station-house. Such 
exhibitions in society 
could have no other 
effect than to produce 
general ridicule, or un- 
utterable disgust. 

In social intercourse 
you never ask, or pre- 
sume to know the age 
of a woman who has 
arrived at the mature 
period of life, and has 
not passed it. When 
a lady has passed out 
of her teens, there is 
to be no question of 
age, until she arrives 
at the point where it 




BALD HEADS AND WIGS. 221 

is no longer of consequence, or where she may boast 
of her years, or even exaggerate their number. A 
well preserved, carefully dressed woman of fifty may 
pass for thirty, and one of seventy may, in rare cases, 
be mistaken for forty, or even less. We have very 
authentic accounts of women who were considered 
charming, and even adorable, when past seventy. 

If we are not to penetrate the mystery of age, 
still less must we be inquisitive, or in any way reveal 
what we may chance to discover of personal defects, 
or the means used to remedy them. 

Mr. Jones fancies that it best 
comports with his dignity to go 
bald ; and it is his undoubted 
right to do so. Very honest of 
Mr. Jones ; but Mr. Brown, with 
not so large an organ of self- 
esteem, and a little more appro- 
bativeness, takes unto himself a 
flourishing and fashionable wig. 
If he wishes to have it known, 
he will undoubtedly make due 
advertisement of the fact ; but 
it is no affair of yours, and it 
would be a great impertinence in 
you to mention it. 

False teeth, false curls, a band 
of hair, in aid of the deficiencies 
of nature, or to make up for the 
inroads of disease ; a little pearl 
powder to whiten a sallow skin ; 
a little rouge, to brighten a faded 
cheek ; a little cotton or whalebone, to make out 
the proportions of an undeveloped or shrunken 
form ; surely no one but an actual cannibal, or 





222 DISPARAGEMENT. 

ghoul, or vampire, or some other terrible monster, 
would make them a subject of gossip or criti- 
cism ! 

Though a savant may be permitted to catch a 
stray comet and bring it to a soiree, very care- 
fully as aforesaid, no gentleman can ever boast of 
any conquest, intimacy, or favor, of any lady. He 
may be ever so much of a naturalist, or sportsman, 
or star-gazer ; this sort of game he must neither 
exhibit nor boast of. A lady's reputation is a very 
tender thing, and is not to be attacked, or under- 
mined in any way, by the other sex. Women take 
strange, and we think sometimes very improper 
liberties with each other ; but no man can speak 
lightly of the character of any woman who has a 
social position. More particularly is it high trea- 
son for him to do anything like to " kiss and tell." 
If it is false, he is a scoundrel. If it is true he is a 
little worse. No principle of social ethics is better 
settled than this. A gentleman would be cut into 
very small pieces, before he would compromise the 
reputation of any lady, under any conceivable cir- 
cumstances. A man who would do it, is not to be 
believed on his oath. So far as men are concerned, 
every woman's reputation is as safe as possible. If 
true gentlemen, they will not injure it — if false 
knaves they cannot, for their testimony is not to be 
taken. 

Never disparage the beauties which another per- 
son may find in any object of nature or art, unless 
you have a special mission to amend his or her 
taste. Be it a building or a landscape, a picture or 
a woman, but more particularly the latter, the most 
you can say is that you had not noticed its perfec- 
tions. The man looks through some medium of hap- 



CAN MARRIED PEOPLE KEEP SECRETS? 223 

piness or desire, which makes the object beautiful to 
him, though indifferent to you. 

You are not bound to defend your country or 
countrymen against foreigners, unless you are a 
volunteer or drafted into the militia. We have our 
faults, and if foreigners make a mistake and censure 
what are really our good qualities, that is their 
misfortune. 

When silence is demanded, there is rudeness in 
speech ; when speech is demanded, it is equally 
rude to be silent. 

Avoid the horrible, the sickening, the terrific ; 
you may do an irreparable injury, even through 
generations, by a heedless display of horrors to per- 
sons of sensitive organizations. The newspapers 
are bad enough, and their influence in this respect, 
though it may be good on the whole, is to be depre- 
cated in particular instances. Revolting crimes and 
sufferings are no proper subjects for conversation. 

It is generally believed that a married man or 
woman is not a safe depositary of a secret — that 
men tell their wives, and women their husbands, 
who tell them to others, and so on. Still, we find 
little betrayal of the secrets of our mystic societies; 
and as most husbands and wives are quite able to 
keep their own secrets from each other, why should 
they not as easily keep those of other people ? The 
relations of man and wife do not release any one 
from the prior obligation of behaving like a gentle- 
man or lady. A gentleman will respect his wife's 
secrets, and a lady her husband's. Neither will 
ever read the other's letters but by actual permis- 
sion in each case ; and neither will be any more 
curious in regard to the private and personal affairs 
of the other than would be proper with respect to 



224 DISCUSSION AND CONTROVERSY. 

any other person. The idea that marriage destroys 
the obligations of good manners and politeness, 
is a very sad, though, we fear, a very prevalent 
mistake. A wife is entitled to as much deference 
and respect, at least, as any other lady — to as much 
after marriage as she received before. See Court- 
ship, etc. 

You are not bound to attack every man you 
meet in society, who differs with you in opinion. A 
clergyman of another faith ; a physician of another 
school of practice ; a politician of another party, 
may still be a gentleman and a scholar ; and as 
you do not go into society to be preached to, or 
take physic, or vote, there is no occasion for any 
controversy. There are times of popular excite- 
ment, it is true, when the questions of the day can- 
not be kept out of general conversation. Discuss 
them, then, with fairness and moderation. 

If you speak the French, or any language, not 
known to the company generally, use it only in con- 
versing with those who cannot speak English. For 
two persons, in a company, to open a conversation 
in a language, foreign to both, is more rude than to 
whisper. It is an ostentatious rudeness. In a 
crowd, or among strangers, you can of course whis- 
per, or speak any language you please. Persons 
speaking in a foreign language are sometimes under- 
stood by those they least suspect. 

It is enjoined on young persons, as their special 
duty, to be modest ; but it is a vain requisition. 
Modesty comes with experience, if at all. It takes 
one a long time to know how little he knows, or 
how little can be known. 

When a person reports to you some scandalous 
thing that has been said about you by a third per- 



DUELLING. 225 

«on, you are to consider the intent. If the report 
is made to annoy you, you can resent it at fiist 
hand. If in friendliness, you are to consider whether 
it is true, and can be useful ; and if false, whether 
it is mistakenly or maliciously so, and act accord- 
ingly. 

But how act? The member of any society must 
act as that society requires, or leave it. If you are 
a gentleman, and live where the duel is a social 
institution, you must be willing to fight, or quit. 
These matters seldom come to an actual combat ; 
and where there is danger of such result, offences 
are very rare. The next step to war is non-inter- 
course ; but this, with two persons moving in the 
same social organization, is very difficult. The most 
proper method, in case of any offence, whether duel- 
ling is customary or not, is to place the matter in 
the hands of an intelligent and respectable third 
person, who can dispassionately make the affair his 
own, explain misapprehensions and little differences, 
or, in some way, do you justice. 

Separation is, of course, a remedy for all difficul- 
ties ; but it is a very harsh one. Many persons 
would rather die than be turned out of their " set." 
Many do face death, and meet it, rather than incur 
disgrace. And what is disgrace, but the disrespect 
and withdrawal of favor, of the dozen or hundred 
persons who happen to know you ? This is all : for 
the great world outside neither knows nor cares 
anything about the matter. 

As a man of honor, you are to defend the repu- 
tation of any person with whom you associate, from 
any attack whatsoever ; and the reputation of 
every lady is sacred. What affects reputation is 
almost entirely a matter of opinion and custom. 
15 



226 DUTIES OF FRIENDSHIP. 

The same thing that would increase a lady's popu- 
larity in Paris, might ruin it in New York. That 
which would be quite correct, and not in the least 
derogatory in New Orleans, would call for social 
ostracism in Boston. You must not make the blun- 
der of thinking you can associate with people, enjoy 
the pleasure of their society, and yet leave them to 
be picked in pieces by any who choose to attack 
them. All persons who move in the same society 
are allies, offensive and defensive. 

Defence against a scandal, is generally of the na- 
ture of the lawyer's, in the case of the broken ket- 
tle. "May it please your Honor, our defence rests 
on three points ; firstly, we never borrowed the ket- 
tle at all ; secondly, it was cracked when we bor- 
rowed it ; and thirdly, it was whole when we re- 
turned it." The defence against an act, imputed as 
scandalous, would be, that your friend, being a gen- 
tleman, never did, or could do such a thing ; but 
that, if he did do it, it was his own affair, what he 
had a perfect right to do, and nobody's business. 
In nine cases out of ten this would cover the whole 
ground, and ought to be perfectly satisfactory. 

A perpetual grumbling and complaining, either 
of the world in general, or of your own personal in- 
conveniences, is not a pleasant humor. It is said 
to be an Englishman's privilege to grumble ; and 
in the conduct of public affairs he sometimes has 
sufficient cause ; but a critical, censorious, fault- 
finding spirit, is not an amiable trait ; and unless 
carried to a certain point of drollery, is disagreea- 
ble. " Make the best of a bad bargain ;" that is, if 
you must absolutely keep it. It is useless to com- 
plain of the inevitable. It is miserably undignified 
to fret or whine. Barring the wickedness, it is 



TIME FOR BUSINESS. 221 

much better to swear a little and have done. Most 
people prefer a savage oath occasionally to a per- 
petual grumble, or a tormenting whine. When it 
is necessary, and may be useful to complain, do so 
firmly and in a decided manner ; otherwise let the 
matter pass. 

Never speak to any person of any private mat- 
ter, which may possibly be disagreeable, before 
others. If you have censures to make, let it be 
either alone, or in the presence of some one selected 
for that purpose. If you meet a man who owes 
you, in society, you can make no allusion to it, 
Business has its own times and places ; and ought 
not to be brought into company, though it is every 
day among men whose minds are absorbed in stocks, 
staples, and all the transactions of commerce and 
finance. 

When spoken to, answer properly, and according 
to the usual and grammatical forms. 
" Here you are !" is the property of our 
friend the clown, whose ancient and pre- 
scriptive right it is our duty to guard 
against intrusion. There is a particular 
awkwardness in addressing a young un- 
married lady, when you do not remem- 
ber or do not wish to use her name. 
Madame, or its contraction, Ma'am, does 
not belong. to her until she arrives at " a 
certain age." Miss is a pretty little 
term, and used alone, particularly ill 
sounding. Mademoiselle is a very fine designation, 
if English tongues, untrained in French pronuncia- 
tion, could ever speak it ; but as it is difficult and 
pedantic, it is scarcely proper. The escape is to 
simply say — what you wish to, with no title or desig- 




228 



A SLIGHT EXAGGERATION. 



nation whatever. The frequent repetitions of Sir, 
Madam, and Miss, are always unpleasant. 

Never 3 in speaking or writing, use the abbrevia- 
tion " Gent." Say " Cove ;5 in preference. " Me 
and another gent," is the bathos of vulgarity. 

It is not quite proper, in speaking to one clergy- 
man of another, to say, "I believe he is in your 
line." 

Clothes are neither togs, toggery, rig, or rigging. 

Observe carefully our precepts ; study them wise- 
ly, and make proper allowance, where, to make them 
more impressive, we have ventured to give them 




A SLIGHT EXAGGERATION. 







CHAPTER XIY. 

THE ETIQUETTE OF OCCASIONS. 

ccasions are constantly occurring 
which require some knowledge of the 
etiquette or style of behavior that is 
considered suitable and necessary in 
a well regulated society ; and the 
most important or frequently recur- 
ring of these we must briefly notice. 

People go to church. All places of public wor- 
ship, except those of the Friends, are now called 
churches. It is true that our constitution and go- 
vernment recognize freedom and toleration in mat- 
ters of religion ; it is true that we have no legally 
constituted inquisition ; still there is a very power- 
ful one in full operation in every village and every 
coterie. It is "respectable" to go to church, 
therefore it is not exactly respectable not to go; 
and though our governments profess to discard re- 
ligion, they do not really. Men are sworn upon the 
Bible. There are chaplains and prayers in our 
legislatures, and in Congress, and the army and 
navy. In some states, moreover, people are com- 
pelled by law to keep the Christian Sabbath, and 
may be punished for profanity, blasphemy, or even 
for simple infidelity. 

Our society is, therefore, a Christian society, and, 



230 RELIGIOUS ATTACHMENTS. 

in spite of the forms and pretensions of our national 
and state constitutions to the contrary, this is essen- 
tially a Christian country, with both a social and 
legal recognition of Christianity, and differing from 
other countries in a wider toleration of sectarian 
differences. 

It is etiquette, therefore, in this country, to pay 
at least an external respect to the forms and ser- 
vices of religion Your actual belief or faith is 
your own internal affair. Belief is an involuntary 
state of mind, depending upon education, or the 
operation of evidence ; but the external conformity 
of manners and behavior, which passes in the world 
for religion, and which may be its outward expres- 
sion, is entirely voluntary. Internally, religion is 
the supreme love of the soul ; externally, it is a 
fashion or custom of society. 

Persons of fashion usually attach themselves to 
the church which is recognized as the most "gen- 
teel f while men who wish to succeed in affairs de- 
pending upon the more general public, join the most 
popular congregations. These vary in different sec- 
tions of our country. In New York, the most 
fashionable church is the Episcopal. To be a mem- 
ber of Trinity or Grace Church, is a sufficient pass- 
port to any society. Calvary has its own set ; and 
St. Johns is of the old, substantial aristocracy. 
There is also a strong party of old Knickerbocker 
society, that adheres to the Dutch Reformed. Many 
also of the most refined and exclusive aristocracy 
are High Church, or Puseyite Episcopalians, and 
Roman Catholics. 

In Baltimore, the oldest and best families belong 
to the Catholic Church, being descended from the 
first Catholic settlers, who came over with Lord 
Baltimore. 



FASHIONABLE CHURCHES. 231 

Virginia and the Carolinas are strongly Episco- 
palian, or Church of England, the " first families" 
being descended from the English cavaliers. In 
New England, at the present day, there are three 
reigning creeds or forms — the Episcopal, the Pres- 
byterian or Congregational, and the Unitarian. 
The latter, in Boston and Massachusetts, may be 
considered the dominant faith. 

Some cf the large sects, so far from being con- 
sidered fashionable, have condemned fashion and 
most of its observances and vanities. The Friends 
or Quakers have made it a principle to renounce 
and denounce all worldly homages and customs, and 
all fashions of costume, amusement, and beauty. 
They do not dress — the solid and conforming 
Friends — except in an ugly fashion of their own ; 
they wear no ornaments ; they ga to no parties or 
assemblies but their own ; they neither cultivate 
nor encourage music, nor art, nor poetry, nor danc- 
ing. The Methodists and Baptists, and the more 
severely puritanical among Presbyterians, more or 
less resemble the Quakers in these respects. 

When the external form of worship is a matter 
of indifference, and there is no strong bias to any 
particular mode of religious belief, a gentleman will 
naturally attend the church he considers most re- 
spectable, and join the congregation which is most 
to his taste, or which may give him the greatest 
social advantages. 

We are not recommending any worldliness, or vio- 
lation of conscience. We simply state the fact that 
where there is no powerful religious feeling, drawing 
persons to particular religious sects ; where there is 
only a general feeling of respect for religion, and 
still more for the forms of society, such persons nat- 



232 MANNERS IN CHURCH. 

urally gravitate toward those who satisfy their 
tastes or ambition. They go where there is the 
finest preaching and the best mnsic ; the most 
wealthy, elegant, and fashionable people ; where a 
young man is likely to find the best connection, and 
the young lady to attract the most eligible hus- 
band, and the most proper establishment : and leav- 
ing religious convictions out of the question, or sup- 
posing no violation of conscience, what is there in 
all this that is at all unnatural or objectionable ? 

In attending church, dress richly and well, but 
not with extreme gayety. For example, a dark 
waistcoat and gloves are to be preferred to more 
conspicuous colors. Church is a dress place, but 
not full dress ; since ladies do not wear low dresses, 
nor take off their bonnets, which are as elegant as 
possible. 

Be in season, so as not to intrude upon the sa- 
credness of the occasion. Every person attending 
church should be in his seat before the service com- 
mences. 

If you go to a church where you are a stranger, 
enter the door, removing your hat, and stand quiet- 
ly, in a serious attitude, until the sexton, or in his 
absence some Christian in the congregation, invites 
you to a seat. 

Avoid staring about, either at the architecture 
and ornaments of the church, or the congregation. 
At the theatre you can carry an opera glass or an 
eye glass ; but at church, if you are near sighted, it 
is best to wear spectacles, and not be obliged to 
quiz either the preacher or the ladies. 

Two persons, sitting in a slip, at church, do not 
Bit together, but as far apart as possible. In the 
Episcopal church, it is customary to either kneel, or 



THE PLACE OF HONOR. 233 

bend forward with the head upon the hand, for a 
moment, on first taking your seat. A person, not 
doing so, would be considered " a heathen or a pub- 
lican ;" a publican being one, whose duties require 
him to wait upon travellers, and who has no time 
to go to church or understand its observances ; 
except where the Sunday laws are strictly enforced 
by the public authorities. 

The head of the slip, like the head of a room, is 
the place farthest from the entrance. The ladies, 
and in the order of their rank, are entitled to the 
head of the pew : but the ludicrous ceremony of 
four or five gentlemen walking out into the aisle, to 
allow some little miss in her teeus, a young lady, 
as "Doesticks" says, "with two flounces on her 
pantalettes, and a diamond ring over her glove," to 
take the place of honor, is rather absurd. Still, as 
many people's lives are made up of attention to such 
ceremonies, you must conform as gracefully as pos- 
sible. 

In a Catholic church you never turn your back 
upon the altar ; in society you never turn your back 
to the lady who claims your chief attention ; at 
court, you enter, go through the form of presenta- 
tion, and " back out*' of the reception room, which 
is a feat requiring some skill to perform gracefully, 
especially in the long trains worn by ladies on such 
occasions. 

If you sit next a lady, it is proper for you to find 
the lesson of the day, the service, and the psalms or 
hymns that may be sung. 

In rising, sitting, or kneeling, follow the forms 
and observances of the congregation. In Rome, do 
as the Romans do ; or if you are too scrupulous, too 
fanatical, or too ill-bred, stay away. Conformity to 



234 CONFORMITY TO CUSTOM. 

local customs, where no important principle is in* 
volved, is one of the common courtesies of life, which 
it is ill-bred and perfectly ridiculous to refuse. 

Thus in oriental countries, where female virtue is 
protected from even the looks of any man but the 
husband and master, you are required not • to look 
even in the direction of a lady. In Roman Catho- 
lic countries you are required to take off your hat, 
and in some places to kneel, at the passing of the 
Host. Englishmen rise, when their national air, 
" God save the Queen," is played or sung. A gen- 
tleman will not offend the prejudices, shock the 
piety, or give rudeness for the hospitality of anj 
people. 

Of course there is a limit. I have thought the 
courtesy of Col. Fremont's party, in partaking of a 
dog-feast, with some tribe of Western Indians, ra- 
ther extreme. But, perhaps they were hungry. 
Achille Murat, who lived, and perhaps lives in Flo- 
rida, is reported to have said — " I have no preju- 
dices ; but I confess that I do not consider a turkey 
buzzard good eating !" 

A quiet, serious deportment ; an absence of all 
irreverence, gayety, whisperings ; a courteous at- 
tention to the preacher and the service, are absolute 
requisites. You should not loll, nor yawn, nor 
sleep, nor do anything to annoy preacher or congre- 
gation. The church is no place for exhibitions of 
connubial affection, nor flirtations, courtships, or 
coquetries ; nor for ordinary reading or business. It 
is presumed that no person aspiring to be thought a 
gentleman will soil the carpets, or make a spittoon 
a necessary part of church furniture. 

When the service is near its conclusion, be in no 
haste to leave, as if you had been bored by the ser- 



LOCAL OBSERVANCES. 235 

vice, or was hungry. To be hunting for your hat 
or adjusting your clothing during the solemnity of 
the benediction, is something short of even a decent 
conformity. When the service is quite ended, and 
the organ is playing the concluding voluntary, after 
a moment of hesitation, retire quietly ; put on your 
hat when you get fully to the door, and make no 
greetings in the church. 

In the country, it is customary for young men to 
pass out first, and gather around the door, to see 
the ladies as they come out. Ascertain, by a little 
inquiry, whether it is considered necessary to con- 
form to this custom ; and if you find that you can be 
excused, you will probably consult your own ideas 
of propriety in refraining from this observance. 

In some places, to give your arm to a lady going 
to or coming from church, is considered equivalent 
to a public announcement of a marriage engage- 
ment. In such a place you will be on your guard ; 
but you may be sure the young ladies will. They 
will rather risk breaking their limbs on the most 
slippery day of winter, than commit themselves to 
public gossip, where there is no prospect. These 
follies of local and provincial custom are to be re- 
garded like those of foreign countries. 

Respectability and society do not require you to 
attend church oftener than once on a Sunday. 
Whatever else you may do must be free from dis- 
play. A gentleman or lady abroad, walking or 
riding, on Sunday, do not expect to be recognized. 
Unfashionable people dress up on Sundays ; fashion- 
able people dress down, for anything but church, or 
their private dinner parties at home. 

On the continent of Europe, Sunday, afternoon 
and evening, is a public holiday — a time of rest, re- 



236 OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 

creation, and amusement, devoted to sports and 
pastimes, music, dancing, and the theaters. 

Americans now travel abroad so much as to 
bring home many of these customs. In some 
houses, and even precincts, the pianoforte is never 
opened on Sunday, unless for sacred music. In 
others, the evening is devoted to song. Some pre- 
fer a quiet card party, with the blinds closed. A 
very few Americans indulge in dancing, though it is 
common in the private residences of the French and 
Germans. 

Whatever your own private opinions or inclina- 
tions may be, a certain regard is always to be paid 
to the opinions of others. If music of a Sunday 
evening offends your neighbors within hearing, or 
even those who pass in the street, it had better be 
dispensed with. There can be no complete inde- 
pendence or individuality in this respect, unless 
you can isolate yourself from public observation. 
What no one feels, sees, hears, tastes or smells, can 
scarcely be any of his business in any way. 

In attending ladies to church or any other public 
place, precede them, on entering, open the pew, 
and bow them into their seats. 

When walking with a lady in the country, if she 
chooses to sit upon the ground, you are to remain 
standing, unless she invites you to be seated. You 
will, of course, give her your hand to assist her in 
rising ; you will, with her permission, assist her in 
adjusting her dress ; you may offer, or she may re- 
quest you to tie her shoe or lace her boot, which 
you will do carefully, and with the most delicate ob- 
servance of propriety. A gentleman should make 
a lady feel, by his whole manner, that she 
is entirely safe from the least thought of impropri- 



FUNERAL CUSTOMS. 237 

dtj in his company ; and so far from his taking 
advantage of being alone with her to be more 
familiar, it is there that he should show the great- 
est delicacy and the most scrupulous respect. 

It is true that gallantry may have another code ; 
it may be true that a Spanish lady would feel in- 
sulted, if any gentleman, having the opportunity, 
was not as familiar in his attentions as she would 
allow him to be ; but our society has a higher law. 
It is that woman is supreme ; that man's relation to 
her is that of servant, protector, guard of honor ; 
and that any favor must be of her granting. 

In carrying your hat at church or elsewhere, let 
it be under the left arm, or with the bottom turned 
toward you. Do not let it be supposed that you 
are passing it around for a contribution. You are 
to take off your hat in handing a lady to a car- 
riage, to a box at the theater, or to a public room. 

When any person with whom you were acquaint- 
ed dies, you will be expected to attend the funeral. 
Sometimes printed invitations are sent ; often, notice 
is simply given in the papers. It is proper that 
you pay this tribute of respect whenever it is ex- 
pected. With the English, a funeral is a matter of 
great state and ceremony. With the Scotch, it was 
formerly an occasion of large gatherings and solemn 
merry-makings ; meat and drinks being provided for 
the mourners in great quantities. This custom of 
funeral feasts is very old. Shakspeare, in Hamlet, 
speaks of the funeral meats that furnished the mar- 
riage festival. The Irish hod-carrier, who could 
scarcely procure the necessaries of life, will have 
fifty carriages to follow his hearse. 

In the best American society, funerals are grow- 
ing quiet and exclusive. The Irish processions and 



238 MARRIAGE CHANGES. 

wakes ; the music and banners of public societies ; 
military funerals, &c, have produced a reaction in 
favor of less parade. A sexton or undertaker man- 
ages everything ; provides coffin, hearse, carriages, 
and mourners, if required. 

Dress in black, and go to the house not quite an 
hour after the time specified in the invitation or 
notice, as the procession moves in just an hour. 

You are not required to go to the grave, unless a 
near friend, or in cases where your presence may be 
a support to the survivors. See at once how this is, 
how many there are present, and whether your 
company may be desirable. 

In a few days you will pay a visit of condolence, 
leaving your card if not received. In return, after 
an interval depending upon the feelings of those 
who have been bereaved, you will receive a card 
" of thanks" which is an invitation for friends to 
renew their visits. 

At marriage, all acquaintances cease, to be re- 
newed or not at the option of the married parties. 
This is an excellent arrangement for many reasons. 
A gentleman may have many pleasant bachelor 
friends, whom he might not think altogether suita- 
ble company for his wife, nor wish to introduce into 
the bosom of his family. She may have personal 
repulsions to them. A man does not marry all his 
wife's relations, and of course not her acquaint- 
ances ; nor she his. They consequently rub out 
and begin anew, or turn over a new leaf. A mar- 
riage may take one or the other into a higher sphere 
of life than the one to which they have been accus- 
tomed, or it may consign them to a lower one. 

A gentleman, as a bachelor, with no one but 
himself to provide for, may live in a style that, as a 



WEDDING ETIQUETTE. 239 

married man, with a prospective family to provide 
for, may not suit his finances. So a young lady, as 
relative and dependent member of a rich family, 
may have moved in a circle quite beyond the reach 
of the more modest establishment she may find it 
convenient to accept with a husband. 

The cards of the newly married couple are sent 
only to those whose acquaintance they wish to con- 
tinue ; and no offence is to be taken by those who 
are excluded. 

Therefore, when,. about to be married (for further 
notice of which see the appropriate chapter), send 
your card, with the lady's, to those whom you wish 
to include in the circle of your future acquaintance. 
The lady's card will have engraved upon it "At 
home, Thursday evening, 15th inst., at eight o'- 
clock." They may be sent by a servant, or you 
may drive round and leave them at the door. They 
should be sent a week previous to the evening indi- 
cated. 

Sending boxes of wedding cake, tied round with 
satin ribbon, is not absolutely necessary. The style 
of cards will be selected by some friend, or suggest- 
ed by the engraver. The fashions are constantly 
changing. In New York, we have undertakers of 
marriages as well as of funerals, generally the same 
person, who sees that all things are conducted with 
suitable solemnity. 

If you have received cards, make your call at the 
time, and within the hours appointed. You will 
find the bride and groom — the happy pair — re- 
turned from the wedding tour, at the head of the 
drawing room. Approach and make your compli- 
ments, first to the hide; wishing her much happiness 
in her new sphere. Congratulate the bridegroom, 



240 MUSICAL PROPRIETIES. 

and also such relations as may be present. If there 
are such festivities as music, dancing, or a supper, 
you will of course remain and partake of them. 
Otherwise you will pay your respects to such of the 
company as you know, or to whom you may be in- 
troduced by the groomsman, and soon take your 
leave. When there is no public reception, and the 
happy couple is absent during the entire honey- 
moon, they find cards on their return, left during 
their absence, by those who have received the wed- 
ding cards. Cards are then left to signify their 
return and visits of ceremony made. 

At a wedding party, given on the wedding night, 
the whole company retires early. See further, chap- 
ter on Courtship and Marriage. 

At a musical party, or in a company where music 
is introduced, give it attention ; and even if you 
have no ear nor taste — if you think it only noise 
and squalling — still have the politeness not to man- 
ifest your distaste, or to interrupt the pleasure of 
others. When near a lady who is going to the piano, 
rise and offer her your arm, and if you can read mu- 
sic, offer to turn the leaves. Try to do it gracefully. 

One of the saddest violations of propriety, and 
even benevolence, is to invite and press a lady to 
play or sing, and then, as soon as she has com- 
menced, for a part of the company to engage in an 
earnest conversation. 

In large houses, where there are several rooms 
for company, those who do not wish to listen to the 
music should leave the room, and all who remain in 
the vicinity of the piano should be silent and atten- 
tive. This is sometimes a severe task, when, for 
example, the young hope of the house, a snubby 
little Miss in pantalettes, is screwed up on the 



A MUSICAL MARTYRDOM. 



241 



pianoforte stool to play through the Battle of 
Prague — Battle of Plague — or some long and 
noisy overture, which, bating a few blunders, and 
her right hand running away from her left occa- 
sionally, she does with the vivacity and grace of a 
pump, and the perseverance of a hand organ. This 
is one of the social' martyrdoms, but it must be en- 
dured. At the next invitation, you can send your 
" regrets." 




INFANT PRODIGT 



242 new year's calls. 

In New York, and in all cities and towns thai 
follow its social customs, gentlemen make New 
Year's calls upon the ladies. They do not vary 
much from morning calls of ceremony, only that 
the entire day and evening is devoted to them — 
that refreshments are usually provided, sometimes 
in profusion, and that they are accompanied with a 
freedom and hilarity unknown to other occasions. 
They often extend beyond one's visiting list. New 
acquaintances are introduced, but it is optional to 
receive them afterwards. Old acquaintances that 
have been dropped from some accident or neglect 
are renewed. It is a general time of reconcilement, 
settling of old scores, and opening new ones. 

A New Year's call must of necessity be short. 
A gentleman, though invited to part with his hat 
and cane, retains them, only laying them down if 
he takes refreshments. Of course he will be asked 
to sit ; and if he has but few calls to make, and no 
company is present, he may do so ; it is perhaps 
rather requisite that he should ; but he must leave 
on the announcement of other visitors. We know 
an estimable Irish lady, who, lately arrived in the 
country, and having of course not a very large cir- 
cle of American acquaintances, was still anxious to 
comply with the hospitable customs of her adopted 
country. So she set her refreshment table munifi- 
cently, with beef, ham, boned' turkey, pickled oys- 
ters, cake and confectionery ; not forgetting the 
wine and liquors, nor entirely omitting a "wee 
drap" of the national beverage, the inevitable 
poteen. 

Among her first callers were three old country- 
men, who took their seats by the refreshment table, 
and set to work heartily to do justice to the good 






CHRISTMAS GIFTS. 243 

things provided. They ate, and talked, and drank, 
and made merry. They wished her a happy New 
Year many and many times. They wished every- 
body a happy New Year. They drank every lady's 
health. They allowed that it was a great country, 
and New Years a glorious institution. Makiug 
New Year's calls was also a capital way of cele- 
brating it ; but somehow, they could not leave that 
table to make another call ; and diet not leave it, 
until they wished everybody a happy New Year for 
the last time, and with a little assistance went to bed. 

A gentleman, unable to make his calls, or all his 
calls, on New Year's, has the privilege of the week 
following ; but calling the next or the following 
days, he is likely to find ladies either indisposed from 
fatigue, or out making their own calls. The happy 
invention of leaving a card, which saves so much 
trouble on both sides, is, however, a sufficient per- 
formance of his duty ; and, having left it, he is put 
on the list, and is eligible for invitations the coming 
year. 

At Christmas, people do not make calls, but 
they give festive parties, and make and receive pre- 
sents. A gentleman must at Christmas, or before 
New Year's, make some present, if it is only a rose 
bud, to every near relation or intimate friend of the 
other sex. Rich and generous people, who have a 
great enjoyment in giving, make presents of furs, 
laces, diamonds, watches, and all kinds of trinkets, 
toys, pictures, and gift books. A present should 
be in good taste, a desirable thing, more ornamental 
than useful, though it is well, particularly if given 
to persons of moderate means, that it should be of 
use, and even needful. It should be suited to the 
age and condition of the person receiving it, and to 



244 OBJECT OF PRESENTS. 

the fortune of the person making it, as well as to 
the relations existing between them. The same 
thing might seem shabby from a rich man, and ex- 
travagant from a poor one. A young lady cannot 
well receive a costly present, except from a near 
relative, an elderly person, or one of her own sex. 
A Christmas present must have the return of thanks 
always ; and some token of acknowledgment, as a 
cap, a pair of -slippers, or a pin-cushion, at ]S T ew 
Year's, or on a birth day, is not amiss. 

Presents are given for the pleasure of those who 
receive them. They should not be given away too 
quickly, nor where it can pain the giver. Some 
things are to be kept, worn and used ; but others 
seem to be made expressly to pass from hand to 
hand, a sort of gift circulating medium ; and so 
that they are given to those, to whom the original 
giver would have no objections, it does not matter. 
They make more happiness. 

Some presents may be sold. Money is given to 
spend ; and valuable things are often given, not that 
they may be kept, but that they may be parted 
with if need be. A very rich man, in New York, 
in the hilarity of a convivial occasion, took a dia- 
mond brooch from his shirt bosom, and fastened it 
in that of a gentleman, moving in the same society, 
but with more wit than cash. The next day, as 
sober and stingy, as he had been the night before 
tipsy and generous, he sought his dear friend with 
the intention of reclaiming his present, as only a 
joke. He found him, but not the diamonds. 

" Where is that brooch ?" he asked ; a little 
blank at its disappearance. 

"Oh! the diamonds ( ? I am greatly obliged to 
you ; and appreciate your generosity, I assure you, 



BIRTH: DAYS. 245 

but I am a poor man, you know, not able to wear 
so magnificent and costly a pin ; and so, being a 
little pressed for funds, in fact, I sold it. I was 
sorry to be obliged to part with it, but I was sure 
you are too generous to think of that — unless it was 
to give me another ; but if you do and want me to 
keep it, let it not be quite so valuable." 

In Paris, every body kisses every body, and 
makes presents on New Year's. Here, what few 
kisses we have come on Christmas, and on birth- 
days. 

Every lady is supposed to have a birth-day ; in 
France it is your fete, your saint's day ; and you 
are the center of congratulations and festivities, 
and people wish you "many happy returns." Here 
a birth-day is often a family festival, in which the 
more intimate friends and acquaintances of the fam- 
ily take part. Presents are also given to people on 
their birth-days, sometimes of great value, by those 
who claim the right to give. Others give little 
articles of taste, or, what is often the most proper, 
a bouquet of flowers. 

The Theater, commonly, is not a place of much 
ceremony. Our Opera, even, is not rigidly full 
dress. Sontag and Grisi were very much shocked 
at being required to sing to ladies in the boxes and 
parquette of the opera with bonnets on. In Lon- 
don, the dress portion of the Italian opera and of 
the principal theaters is full dress, and no lady is 
admitted with a shawl and hat, and no gentleman, 
except in full evening costume, whatever that may 
happen to be. We borrow from Punch, Mr. Leech's 
representation of an excited snob, presenting him- 
self for admission. His " What do you call this?" 
tells the whole story. 



246 



PERFECTION. 



It is rather better to underdo than overdo many 
things — though not all. 
Be modest always where 
excess verges toward the 
ridiculous. In compli- 
ments, in attentions, in 
dress, in ornaments, it is 
better to study the chas- 
tened graces of a meek 
and quiet spirit. And if 
you have the taste to be 
perfectly comme il faut 





"We must insist on full 
dress, sir." 

"Well — what do you call 
this?" 



iu all respects but 
one, do not let a sin- 
gle fault, a single 
stupid habit, mar the 
otherwise universal 
perfection. If you 
are almost as you 
should be, resolve 
that you will be 
bo entirely — the dia- 
mond without a sin- 
gle flaw, 



MANNERS AT THE THEATER. 247 

According to the ingenious, if not always and 
altogether veracious Mrs. Trollope, women in the 
boxes of American theatres were to be seen nursing 
their babies ; while the men, putting their legs over 
the railing of the boxes, squirted their tobacco juice 
at random over the house. We have seen men put 
their feet over ; but the sovereigns of pit and gal- 
leries never neglected to give the admonition of 
V Boots P while ladies and gentlemen, wanting some- 
what in their manners, turning to sit on the railing, 
with their backs, to the pit, were saluted with the 
cry of " Trollope 1" which soon brought them to a 
sense of propriety. 

In the dress part of the house, and in the vicinity 
of ladies, a gentleman will do well to remove his 
hat when he takes his seat. If attending ladies, he 
will do it, of course, when showing them to their 
seats. The audience behind him will see that he 
does not keep it on after the curtain rises. 

There can scarcely be a worse piece of manners, 
or a more palpable injustice, than to continue a 
conversation while the performance is going forward. 
Even conversation about the play, explanations of 
the progress or plot of the piece, are intolerable, 
especially anticipations of what is coming. Bad as 
these interruptions are at the drama, they are worse 
at a concert or the opera, where any one who speaks 
should be hushed to silence, or compelled to leave 
the house. You have paid for your pleasure, and 
have a right to the uninterrupted enjoyment of the 
music. The singers have a right to your silence, 
and your applause, if they merit it. In listening to 
music, never beat time with your feet and cane on 
the floor. A man has just as good a right to throw 
dirt in your soup, as noise in your music. This is a 



248 ATTENTIONS TO LADIES. 

free country ; but freedom is the righ ; to do right, 
and gives no right to do any one a wrong. 

Conduct ladies to their seats. If there are two, 
you can take your place between them, so as to be 
able to attend to both, unless some other arrange- 
ment of seats will be more advantageous to them. 
When seats are not secured, gentlemen often sur- 
render the front seats to ladies who are strangers ; 
but secured seats are usually kept by those whc 
take them. In a private box, the ladies, of course, 
have the front seats. See that they are provided 
with the play bill, and an opera glass. You can 
leave a lady, and still better two ladies, between the 
acts, to visit any friends you may have, and they 
may receive calls from gentlemen. In Italy, most 
of the visiting of society is done at the opera, be- 
tween the acts ; and ladies also receive calls in their 
carriages in the public drives. 

There is one general rule in attending ladies, on 
a visit, to a theater, or wherever you may go. It 
is for their pleasure. Their comfort is to be con- 
sulted always. It is for them to choose where to 
go, when to go, and always to give the signal to 
leave. Their taste is to be consulted ; and they are 
to be left alone whenever privacy for any reason be 
desirable. In attending ladies in the country, or 
wherever you are liable to be thrown together sev- 
eral hours, as at a pic-nic, it is highly necessary 
that the gentlemen of the party should at times 
leave the ladies to themselves, and be ready to take 
the slightest hint that their absence may be desir- 
able. And always and everywhere, when two per- 
sons may probably wish to speak privately to each 
other, take yourself out of the way, to allow them 
to do so. 



COOL IMPUDENCE. 



249 



A public hotel is your house for the time being ; 
but your own room is the only place where you can 
feel at entire liberty. The public drawing-room is 
not yours to monopolize with conversation. It is 
a common visiting place, where to a certain degree 
you are on visiting etiquette. So the talk d'hote 
has many of the elements of a private dinner party, 
and at some of our hotels is quite as ceremonious. 
The ladies, boarders or travelers, come to the table 
in full dress, and there is all the ceremony of the 
most fashionable dinner party. 

In our large cities, we are growing daily into the 
Paris fashion of ladies dining, either alone or with 
gentlemen, at the large cafes or dining saloons. 
Ladies are doubtless fond of admiration ; but they 
do not commonly like to be stared at too impudent- 
ly, nor do they care to be too closely inspected 
while engaged in satisfying their appetites. 




COOL IMPUDENCE. 



CHAPTEK XT. 




OF VARIOUS RELATIONS. 

he various relations which we 
sustain to the individuals consti- 
tuting any society, modify our 
manners and behavior toward 
them. There are differences of 
age, condition, profession or call- 
ing, and position, that call for a 
difference of behavior toward each 
individual. To understand these 
different relations, and to be able 
to adapt our manners properly to each relation, is 
the perfection of gentlemanly or ladylike accomplish- 
ment. 

We have, in the variety of these relations, a de- 
mand for all degrees of expression, from the most 
profound deference and respect to our superiors, 
down to the most condescending affability to our 
inferiors ; from the most familiar love of those who 
are nearest and dearest, to the cool civility due to 
a stranger. 

These words, superiors and inferiors, we know, 
grate harshly on American ears. Our cwn ears 
are as American as any can be short of the aborigi- 
nal complexion ; but we have very often, especially 
in our younger days, been obliged to acknowledge 



INTIMATE RELATIONS. 251 

our superiors ; to say nothing of those whom it 
would be a gross affectation not to consider our in- 
feriors. 

We have our superiors in age and its necessary 
experience — our superiors in political position, since 
we must look up to the Governor of a State, or the 
President of the Republic, in their official capacity, 
even if we could look down upon them intellects 
ally, socially, or morally. 

With the most entire recognition of the principle 
of political equality, and of the fraternity of the 
race, every man who looks at the moral, intellectual 
and social aspects of man, must see a gradation of 
positions and characters, with corresponding duties, 
relations and manifestations. 

The most intimate of the relations of life, that of 
husband and wife, we shall treat of in a special chap- 
ter. It is evident that the more intimate and ten- 
der a relation is, the more it must be guarded by 
mutual respect and courtesy. People who are 
thrown constantly together, have great need to 
guard against the carelessness, rudeness, and neg- 
lect, liable to spring from such familiarity ; and it 
must be borne in mind that if the relation of hus- 
band and wife is a familiar one, it is also one of 
great delicacy. There is a certain respect due from 
a woman to the position, and presumed character of 
a man, which a woman of true tact and delicacy 
never forgets ; but there is also, and still more, the 
regard which every man owes to every woman, 
chivalric and even . romantic in its character, which 
the lover always remembers, and the husband should 
never forget. There can be no better rule for the 
manners of a husband and wife, than that they 
should treat each other, in all outward forms, and 



252 PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 

in all true respect and courtesy, as if they were not 
married. 

The relations, duties, responsibilities, and courte* 
sies of parents and children, as of all others, are 
mutual. There is no relation, not even that of mas- 
ter and slave, without a full reciprocity. It is a 
curious blunder to suppose that children owe every- 
thing to their parents. A child is brought into the 
world, without his wishes being consulted, and often 
under circumstances that would have seemed very 
repugnant, and which he would have peremptorily 
declined, had he the power to do so. Parents owe 
something to the convenience, well being, and hap- 
piness of their children, and have no more right to 
bring a human being into bad conditions, than they 
have to take one already living, and force him into 
such conditions. It may be very seriously doubted 
whether a parent is not guilty of as great a wrong 
in bringing a child into a state of hardship, igno- 
rance, and disease, as a kidnapper would be who 
should steal a child and reduce him to similar con- 
ditions. 

A child owes its parents obedience for wisdom, 
in its birth and nurture ; love for kindness and cul- 
ture ; respect for mental and moral superiority ; 
deference for courtesy. It does not owe nothing 
for nothing ; and the mere fact of physical parent- 
age may be very little to be grateful for. Nay, in 
point of absolute justice, it may merit a very differ- 
ent feeling from that of gratitude. 

Still, human instincts triumph over much that is 
evil in circumstances and conditions. It is natural 
for children to reverence and love their parents, be- 
cause it is natural that parents should be worthy of 
reverence and love. 



PUNISHMENT OF CHILDREN. 253 

Harshness, tyranny, despotism and cruelty, on 
the part of parents, toward their children, belongs 
to savage or barbarous conditions. Few children, 
born at the present day, are beaten or in any way 
cruelly punished, except among the rudest and least 
cultivated people. Solomon is either less respected 
than formerly, or his proverbs find a new interpre- 
tation. The most beautiful and the best behaved 
children we know, have never been beaten by their 
parents. In their infancy, they have needed con- 
straint, and at times, what amounted to punish- 
ment, but never blows ; and the spirit of love and 
kindness, with children, as with animals, is found 
by actual experiment to be better than the rod. 
There may be children who need whipping, possi- 
bly ; I do not say positively that none such are 
born ; but I do very positively aver that none such 
ever ought to be. 

As the parent soweth, so shall he also reap. 
The parent who is wise, firm, patient, kind, and lov- 
ing to his children, will be rewarded with respect, 
gratitude, and affection ; while folly, petulance, or 
a stern, morose disposition, cannot fail to alienate 
the love that springs spontaneously in the heart of 
every child whose parents love him and each other. 

In those rare, it is to be hoped, and most unfor- 
tunate cases, where the parents do not love each 
other, the child will probably be born with a natu- 
ral repulsion to one or the other parent, which it 
may not be possible, in all its life, to overcome. It 
is useless to oppose these instincts, which spring 
from natural causes. Such repulsions, when they 
do exist, must be borne with patience, and over- 
come, if at all, by extraordinary kindness. There 
is a science of Hereditary Qualities, full of curious 



254 RIGHTS OP OFFSPRING. 

facts of this character, having important bearings 
upon all social questions. 

A parent will do well to treat his children with a 
certain respect, as well as with great kindness. 
Your child is in a certain intimate relation to you ; 
but he is also a human being, with rights, relations, 
and duties. You have no right to impose any des- 
potism upon him, simply because he is your child. 
His rights, so far as they extend, are just as sacred 
as your own. A father is not a tyrant ; his rights 
are bounded by his duties. It is his duty to edu- 
cate, and to a certain extent to provide for, or at 
least enable his child to provide for himself ; but he 
has no right whatever to control the whole life and 
destiny of a being, because he has caused his birth. 
He cannot rightfully control his affections, his pur- 
suits, after the period of manhood, his career or his 
fortunes. The assumptions of many parents, espe- 
cially of the rich, and those in high positions, are 
in the last degree tyrannical. 

But when parents forget their own duties and re- 
sponsibilities, or assume more control than is found- 
ed in any right, public opinion demands a certain 
filial respect, if not obedience. There may be, 
very rightfully, a firm opposition to parental despot- 
ism. No young man should have his life, and no 
young woman her affections, sacrificed. Still, even 
the wrongs of a parent are to be borne with a pa- 
tient dignity ; and, though resisted, they are not 
to be revenged. 

The courtesy between parents and children, where 
they live in harmony, is not stiff and formal. It is 
tender and affectionate. A young Miss will like 
better the tenderness of papa than the more formal 
name of father. A boy, if his impulses are not 



FAMILY AFFECTION. 255 

checked by a cold heart, or a puritanic faith, will 
always be fond and loving to his mother. There 
should be in these relations just enough of ceremony 
to check intrusion, and to moderate those expres- 
sions of love, which seem only the more deep and 
pure, when there is a slight restraint upon their 
passionate abandonment. 

A daughter, whenever it is possible, should pre- 
fer her father's arm to any other support ; and one 
of the most beautiful sights is to see a noble, gal- 
lant boy paying the most chivalric attentions to his 
mother. 

There is sadly too little of all this in our country ; 
too little affection in family relations ; too much 
harshness and coldness on the part of parents, pro- 
ducing a corresponding carelessness and neglect 
from the children. The springs of happiness are 
choked up in many homes, which would flow 
if there were more freedom. The isolated house- 
hold is too often what Fourier has characterized as 
" a domestic hell." Fathers and mothers who read 
this book, you have sources of happiness in the love 
of your children for you and for each other, beyond 
any fortune you can ever accumulate, and which no 
money can ever purchase you ! 

The rights of individuality and privacy, between 
parents and children, are to be specially cared for 
and guarded ; because, from the very nearness of 
their relation, they are more liable to be invaded, 
No child should venture to intrude upon the time, 
or into the room or private affairs of a parent ; and 
the parent should assume no such right over a child 
further than may be a necessity of parental care. 

It is probably not needful to remark that the titles 
Old Man, Old Fellow, Old Boy, the Old Woman, 



256 FRATERNAL DUTIES. 

the Old Gal, are not the polite designations fo* 
one's parents. Governor is a little slangy. 

The brothers and sisters of a family stand upon a 
footing of equality. Boys cannot too soon recog 
nize the gallant deference they owe to the other 
sex, and their sisters are the very ones to whom, 
next to their mothers, it should first be paid. Why 
a young man sh6uld neglect his own sister, to pay 
his attentions to other girls, not half so beautiful 
or worthful, I could never see ; nor why brothers 
and sisters should so often be cold and unloving to 
each other. There is surely something wrong in 
the domestic system that produces such results ; for 
by the instinct of nature, the holiest love in the 
heart of youth, next to that for a mother, is the 
affection he entertains for a sister ; and this affection 
many sisters have rewarded with the unselfish and 
loving devotion of their whole lives. 

Brothers and sisters may be kind and loving, 
without intrusion or that sort of familiarity which 
is popularly said to breed contempt. If some peo- 
ple are too proud of their own relations, far more 
do not give them their relative value. " Our Joe" 
may be a term of endearment, but it is likely to be 
one of under-estimation ; while "our Sal" is not a 
brotherly appellation by any decent possibility. 

A teacher stands, in some respects, in the relation 
of a parent. He is to be treated with just as much 
reverence and affection as he inspires. A kind, 
affectionate, faithful teacher — faithful to a true re- 
lation, and not merely to a mercenary engagement, 
— is entitled to much friendship and esteem, and 
may even inspire a tender love. Be true to every . 
true sentiment, and conform also, in outward respect 
and formal politeness, to whatever the relation re- 



TEACHERS AND GUARDIANS. 25 1 

quires. It is best, in these every day relations, to 
keep the forms of respect unbroken. It is very 
easy then, if any estrangement occurs, to simply 
keep up the customary politeness of intercourse- 
much easier than to return to it when it has been 
abandoned. 

The larger a school, the more varied, and less 
natural or genuine, the relations between teacher 
and pupils, the more necessary are forms and disci- 
pline ; while in an army or on a ship, where there 
is no true relation of attraction between officers and 
men, but only a bond of force, and duty, discipline, 
and a strict adherence to all the forms of etiquette, 
becomes of the first and last importance. 

The child will do well to be respectful to his 
parents ; the pupil ought to be so to his teacher ; 
the soldier must be so to his officer. 

A guardian may be merely a business trustee, or 
he may assume the relation of parent. He is- enti- 
tled to whatever love he can inspire and to all the 
respect due to his relation to his wards. A relation 
who takes the place of a deceased parent, should 
receive a treatment careful, considerate and respect- 
ful, in proportion to the lack of filial love. In all 
such cases, where there is less familiar love, there 
must be more studied deference, and this on both 
sides. Love is the fulfilling of the law ; love per- 
forms all duties, overlooks and forgives all faults; 
and wherever in any near relation there is any lack 
of love, we must find the best substitute we can in 
politeness and kindness of manner. 

Young persons are rather inclined to consider 

teachers, particularly private tutors and governesses, 

as their natural enemies. A state of warfare has, 

doubtless much excitement and glory, but also 

17 



258 CLAIMS OF THE CLERGT. 

great suffering. Is it not better to be Mends with 
those whose business it is to teach us how to live ? 
Those who adopt such professions are commonly 
entitled to much sympathy and good treatment. I 
never could understand how beautiful and accom- 
plished girls, so tender and romantic as they some- 
times seem, can pinch their governesses black and 
blue. What will they do to their husbands? 

From the Christening to the Funeral, we who 
enjoy the various blessings of civilization, are 
brought into relations with clergymen. Even bar- 
barians and savages have their priests, so that the 
priesthood seems rather a universal human institu- 
tion, than an offspring of civilization ; and Chris- 
tianity is but one of many forms of its develop- 
ment. 

The claims of the clergy upon our respect, defer- 
ence, and even reverence, are of no ordinary char- 
acter ; and these claims, if not repudiated, are to 
be acknowledged and honored. A clergyman is 
either what he claims to be, a reverend man of 
God, an ambassador of Heaven, a mediator between 
the Almighty and his children, and to be treated 
with all the respect due to so high a function and 
so holy an office, or else he is an impostor ; self-de- 
ceived, perhaps, and quite honest in his pretensions. 
Those who admit the former character, have no ex- 
cuse for the least irreverence or disrespect. Those 
who may suspect the latter, and who do not recog- 
nize the reality of clerical assumptions, may still 
respect the honest belief of a religious teacher, and 
the office and position of a high public and social 
functionary. In the one case your own faith and 
convictions require that you be deeply reverent to 
the "Man of God f in the other you must still pay 



RELIGIOUS DUTIES. 259 

a gentlemanly deference to the forms of society, and 
the belief of those around you. 

It is considered improper to swear, or be drunk, 
or to use coarse and indelicate language in the pre- 
sence of a clergyman ; to give him any insult, which 
he is withheld by his position from resenting, to 
challenge him to fight, or to play cards, or to invite 
him to go to any profane amusement. It may occur 
to the reader that a gentleman or lady will scarcely 
do any of these things in any case. We cannot 
help it — we only state the well-recognized fact that 
these things are an insult to "the cloth." On the 
other hand, a clergyman, in all his ministrations, 
will do well to temper his zeal by discretion, and 
cultivate the utmost suavity of manners. Let sup- 
ply follow demand, in religion, as in trade. When 
advice and exhortations are forced upon unwilling 
ears, they are seldom of any service. The clergy- 
man who intrudes his function and his exhortations 
out of season, does himself and his cause an injury. 
There are few impertinences more annoying than 
religious ones. 

An occurrence at the death-bed of the late John 
C. Calhoun, who, whatever may be thought of his 
political and social theories, was a man of eminent 
purity of character and life, is a strong case in 
point. The aged statesman, in his last moments, 
with the full possession of all his faculties, and per- 
fectly conscious and calmly prepared for the change 
before him, wished to be alone, with his own 
thoughts, or to see only those who were nearest ; 
and he gave orders that no others were to be admit- 
ted. The bell rung, and a young Episcopal clergy- 
man presented himself, and asked to see Mr. Cal- 
houn. 



260 PROFESSION L ETIQUETTE. 

" You cannot see him," said his secretary. f ' He 
does not expect to live but a few hours, and has 
given strict orders that no stranger be admitted." 

" Is his end so near ? Then there is the more 
reason why I should see him at once. Say that I 

am the Rev. Mr. , and I wish to talk with 

him about the concerns of his soul." 

The secretary took the message. 

"No!" was the stern reply. "Why am I an- 
noyed at such a time with this impertinence, from a 
young man, on a subject I have been thinking of 
all my life ? I will not see him." 

Mr. Calhoun was a most courteous and amiable 
man ; but there are occasions when patience ceases 
to be a virtue. 

Many persons make a point of treating the pro- 
fessions alike. They entrust their business to a 
lawyer, their health to a physician, and their souls 
to a clergyman, with the same simple reliance and 
blind faith. In each case they live or in the system 
in which they have been educated; and they alike 
obey with implicit confidence these time-honored 
social functionaries of law, physic, and divinity. 

Protestantism has made some heavy inroads into 
priestly influence, in demanding and teaching the 
right of private judgment in matters of faith. The 
principle has been carried into politics, morals, law, 
and medicine, until people are beginning to question 
governments, institutions, statutes, and forms of 
jurisprudence, and the most ancient modes of medi- 
cal practice. 

Etiquette, however, demands that, having chosen 
your lawyer, you implicitly trust your affairs to his 
management. Any interference with him, or any 
action on your part without consulting him, is ill 



TITLES AND DIGNITIES. 261 

manners. In the same way, having employed a 
physician, of whatever school, you give your case 
into his hands, follow his directions implicitly, and 
take whatever medicine he orders. This is alike the 
rule of etiquette and the dictate of common sense. 
Give any information in your power ; make, if you 
please, any suggestion ; but having engaged what 
you suppose competent professional aid, courtesy 
requires that you, in good faith, attend to the pre- 
scriptions ; or, discharge your physician. 

Having engaged a clergyman, a lawyer, or a phy- 
sician, in any case, you are not at liberty to consult 
any other, except with the consent of the first. No 
professional man will knowingly be a party to such 
an interference with another's business, nor permit 
it with regard to his own. If you get an incompe- 
tent parson, attorney, or doctor, you cannot have 
another, except in consultation with him, unless you 
discharge him entirely, and put the case into the 
hands of another. Bearing these things in mind, 
you have only to treat professional men in society 
as private gentlemen ; and, out of the round of 
professional duties they wish to be considered as 
such. It is true that clergymen wear a sort of uni- 
form, that they may be known and respected ac- 
cordingly, and have certain privileges to which they 
consider themselves entitled ; but this is of doubt- 
ful propriety. An officer of the army or navy goes 
into society in citizen's dress, though he is intro- 
duced by his title ; but the captain of a merchant 
ship, when on shore, dresses as little like a sailor as 
possible, and wishes always to be called Mister, 
though he is always to be addressed as captain at 
sea. These rules indicate the etiquette to be ob- 
served by professional men in their intercourse and 
relations with each other. 



262 ladies' second-hand titles. 

A clergyman is introduced as the Reverend Mr 
So-and-So. A physician is in this country usually 
called Doctor ; Judges, Colonels, &c, have their 
titles ; but these things are not in the best taste, 
and will gradually disappear. 

Ladies are sometimes designated as Reverend 
Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Captain Scott ; Mrs. Dr. Jones, 
Mrs. Judge Evans, and even the Honorable Mrs. 
Boodle, when their husbands have chanced to be 
members of some Legislature. We confess to a poor 
opinion of these lady Reverends, Doctors, and 
Judges, at second hand. With the ladies who are 
ordained clergymen, who take degrees of M.D., and 
who are preparing to enter the legal profession, and 
embark boldly in politics, it is another affair. They 
are eutitled to all the honors they can win ; but we 
do not see that the fact of a lady being the wife of 
a Captain in the militia, gives her any claim to the 
title. Man and wife may be one in law ; a lady 
may be half, and even the better half of her hus- 
band, without assuming the professional designation, 
which, however proud he may be of it, is still less 
than the title of gentleman. 

There is another class of professional people we 
sometimes encounter in society, and the proper 
treatment of whom may be a matter of considera- 
tion. We mean authors, editors, artists, musicians, 
&c. These people, with the exception, perhaps, of 
editors, are apt to be sensitive, irritable, and ex~ 
igeant. They are to be treated with corresponding 
delicacy. You are presumed to be familiar with 
the writings of an author, with whom you fiud your- 
self in company ; yet it may not be well to speak 
too directly of his works. An apt quotation, or a 
delicate allusion may be managed ; but the best 



LITERARY PEOPLE AND ARTISTS. 263 

compliment is a certain deference, a consciousness 
of being in the presence of genius and notability, 
and a not too obtrusive attention. 

When you invite a literary celebrity or man of 
wit, do not let it be too evident that you have se- 
cured him as a lion or a performer, to amuse you 
and your guests. The lady who sent her little 
daughter to a gentleman, with her compliments, to 
inquire if he was not going to say something funny 
pretty soon, needed some instructions on this point 
of breeding. When professional musicians or sing- 
ers are invited as guests, they are not to be asked 
to play or sing. It would seem, at once, as if they 
were invited for that purpose ; and they would be 
justified in sending in a bill for their services. They 
will volunteer to please the company, and them- 
selves, if they choose ; and if they are at all amia- 
ble, after others, amateurs, have had their turn, they 
will do so. 

At aristocratic parties, where professional people 
are engaged, they do not mix with the company ; 
but receive such attentions as may be tendered. 
They have refreshments or supper by themselves, 
and, retiring early, they receive then, or the follow- 
ing day, a suitable remuneration for their services, 
agreed upon or understood. 

But when professional people, artists of any kind, 
are invited as guests, they are to be treated a little 
better than other people, and without the least ob- 
trusion of the fact that it was their artistic, rather 
than their personal character and reputation, which 
made their company desirable. 

Editors, by which we mean the conductors and 
principal writers of newspapers, scarcely ever escape 
the constant obtrusion of their profession, and they 



264 EDITORS AND POETS. 

are, perhaps, a little apt to make it too apparent 
in their t>wn conversation. Their position is novel, 
and unsettled. They do not know precisely where 
they stand, nor what is their real place in the social 
scale. They do not claim too much — they can 
scarcely claim a higher place than will eventually be 
awarded them ; but they are not willing to await 
the justice of time and progress. 

The editor of a paper, which is the vehicle of 
facts, and the organ of opinions, for hundreds of 
thousands of readers, compares his position and real 
work and influence in the world, with that of some 
dull preacher to a little congregation ; some lawyer 
practising chicanery in petty courts ; some doctor 
dealing out pills to credulous patients ; some mer- 
chant deep in the hide and tallow business ; and he 
is not inclined to yield them social precedence. But 
all he has to do, is to simply be a gentleman ; and 
his true position will adjust itself. 

Persons connected with public journals have some- 
times committed the error of giving too wide a pub- 
licity to the private affairs of society ; but they 
have oftener erred much more on the other side, in 
allowing themselves to be used to gratify a feverish 
and foolish thirst for notoriety. 

A poet, in a small circle, composed mostly of per- 
sons of literary taste, may be asked to recite a 
poem ; an artist to show his sketches ; but in a 
large or mixed company the occupations of all per- 
sons are kept out of sight. They may be sculptors 
or bricklayers, poetesses or milliners —in company 
they are only ladies and gentlemen. 

There are other persons to whom a lady or gen- 
tleman should be especially polite. All elderly 
persons ; the unattractive ; the poor, and those 



CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLES. 265 

whose dependent positions may cause them to fear 
neglect. The gentleman who offers his arm, or 
gives his time to an old lady ; or asks a very plain 
one to dance ; or attends to one who is poorly 
dressed, never loses in others' estimation or his own. 
A debtor of any kind is to be treated with parti- 
cular courtesy. 

Be very polite to any one with whom you have a 
quarrel. 

Treat a discarded lover or a forsaken mistress 
with extreme consideration. 

Be more than usually kind to any one of whom 
you have heard some scandal, or who is under any 
cloud of social misfortune. 

These seem to us to be Christian principles ; they 
are surely rules of the highest breeding. 





CHAPTER XYL 

EXPRESSION OF SENSES AND FACULTIES. 

■o treatise of this kind can be entirely 
methodical perhaps, but at the same 
time no one can be complete which does 
not at some point take a comprehensive 
and analytic survey of the human cha- 
racter, senses, faculties and passions, of 
which all manners, all behavior, everything we do, 
is but the language or expression. 

We have spoken already of the rights of the 
senses not to be outraged or abused ; the right of 
the eye to enjoy beauty and avoid deformity ; of 
the ear to hear sweet and melodious sounds, and to 
be free from harsh and discordant ones ; of the 
olfactory organ to smell none but pleasant odors, 
and not to be inflicted with all the horrible and dis- 
gusting effluvia of civilization. 

There is also an etiquette of the senses, not less 
to be regarded thau their rights. A man may be 
very impudent, and very insulting with his eyes ; he 
may be very intrusive and annoying with his ears ; 
he may be extremely offensive by an inquisitive and 
impertinent use of his nose. 

" A cat may look at a king" is a proverb quoted 
to justify many impertinences. It is not a question 
here what a cat may do, but what is proper for a 



LISTENERS. 26? 

lady or gentleman. There are times when a look is 
an impertinence, and a stare an insult. The rule is 
imperative, that no one should see, or, if that is im- 
possible, should seem to see, or to have seen, any- 
thing that another person would choose to have 
concealed ; unless indeed it is your business to watch 
for some misdemeanor. It is a great temptation, I 
am perfectly aware, on a wet day, to turn and look 
at a pretty ankle. Probably there should be no 
objection ; but if there probably is ; if it is in the 
least degree probable that you will distress a lady 
by so looking, you must submit to the privation. 
When our elegant demoiselles, conscious of hand- 
some limbs, pretty boots, and the mOst elegant flesh 
colored silk or thread stocking that money can 
buy, come out on a wet day for no other purpose 
than to display this natural and artificial finery, it 
is another affair. But when the eyes 'are used for 
watching over others — for purposes of espionage, 
and its attendant despotisms — for intruding into the 
lives, and acts, and correspondence of others, — they 
may commit the gravest wrongs. Some of these 
we have already noticed. The eye has a stern and 
potent command over the lives and actions of many. 
In our dramas often, and in the French novels 
always, we believe, people who are presumed to be 
well bred, peep and listen. They see what they 
were never intended to look at ; they listen to what 
they were never intended to hear. There may be 
circumstances — a robbery, a murder, treason, or 
some equivalent outrage — which will justify a resort 
to such expedients ; but an honorable man never 
wishes to use them, and never does when he can 
possibly avoid it. An English or American gentle- 
man or lady, if they by accident were to see or hear 



268 VITATIVENESS, 

what was not intended for them, would instantly 
and impulsively turn away. When Csesar took the 
letters and despatches of his great rival Pompey, 
he is said to have nobly and magnanimously com- 
mttted them to the flames without reading a line, 
though Pompey was his enemy, and a knowledge of 
his plans and adherents might have been of much 
consequence. It was the act of a gentleman, and 
of a very noble Roman. 

Under any ordinary circumstances, it is not allow- 
able to leer, to wink, or to say anything with the 
eyes which it would not be entirely proper to say in 
so many plain words ; and this rule applies to all 
grimaces, gestures, signs and signals whatever. 
Talking with the fingers, and other free masonry of 
signals, is the same violation of good manners, .as 
whispering, or speaking in a foreign language. 

The ears -may be offended by all uncouth noises, 
as whistling, drumming, humming, and particularly 
noises made in eating, which carefully avoid. 

The faculties and passions have their rights and 
wrongs ; their true and tasteful, as well as their false 
and repugnant expressions. We follow the Phreno- 
logical order, as both the clearest and the one most 
popularly known. 

Vitativeness, if we admit such a faculty, has some- 
thing to do with etiquette. In the age of chivalry, 
many a life has been sacrificed, rather than violate 
some decorum. It is on record, that a bow, on the 
battle field, once saved a man's life ; as but for his 
seasonable bow, a cannon ball would have taken off 
his head. Doubtless thousands of lives have been 
saved by the influence of politeness, manners, and 
address, in diplomacy, by which wars have been 
prevented, and peace restored Honor, reputation, 



ALIMENTIVENESS. 269 

social position, are often stronger motives than love 
of life. 

Alimentiveness is reckoned a distinct and primitive 
faculty. TO eat coarsely or too much — to eat at 
improper times and places — to eat regardless of the 
rights of others, are all grave faults of manners, and 
unbecoming a lady or gentleman. The member of 
Congress, who ate sausages in his place in the House 
of Representatives, was "out of order." Eating in 
the streets of a city, or in any fashionable assembly, 
is improper. You may eat to a certain extent, and 
of suitable viands, in a rail-road car. Pea-nuts are 
eaten in the pit and galleries of certain theatres, 
but those who take this method of enjoying the 
legitimate drama, have the same excuse as the fel- 
low who disregarded the usual injunction against 
smoking abaft the wheel in a steamboat — the no- 
tice did not apply to him at all, as he had not the 
slightest claim to the designation of gentleman ! 

You, who may wish to be put in that category, 
must go out for your lunch. It is best not to eat 
peppermints, peanuts, or anything that will taint 
the breath with vulgar odors. In eating anywhere, 
except at a railway station, finish before you leave 
the table. There can be scarcely a grosser exhibi- 
tion of vulgar manners, than for a lady to walk 
from a table, chewing, swallowing, and licking her 
chops. 

Never intrude on people at their meals. Never 
presume to take a seat near your most intimate 
friend at a public table, or in an eating house, with- 
out a decided invitation. Never sit so as to see 
people who are eating, unless requested to do so. 
Carefully avoid intrusions at all times, and particu- 
larly at meal times. Have no exclusive dishes at a 



270 PHILOPROGENITIVENESS. 

public table. No hotel keeper should allow it. It 
is bad manners to fare better than others. Eat no 
dainty in company, unless you can give a share to 
all who wish it. Wine, at hotels, is always pri- 
vate ; and you will not make the mistake of helping 
yourself to what you have not ordered. 

Amativeness demands a special chapter, and is 
treated of in that devoted to the delicacies and eti- 
quette of Love, Courtship, Marriage, etc. 

Philoprogenitiveness has received some attention 
in what we have said of the relations and mutual 
obligations of parents and children. It is a faculty 
subject to great disorders. Children, spoiled by an 
inordinate love and indulgence, are the pests of 
visitors. Their personal intrusions, rumpling and 
daubing dresses, their noisy exclamations, their 
indiscreet gossipings, their alarming outcries, are all 
gross violations of good manners on their own part, 
and on the part of the fond, indulgent, but really 
very cruel and selfish parents, who permit them to 
grow up in the perpetration of such horrors. 

On the other hand, children are almost univer- 
sally intruded upon, their rights violated, and their 
pure instincts disregarded and destroyed. A child 
should never be compelled to approach or receive 
the caresses of a person to whom it is not sponta- 
neously attracted. 

Of two persons of nearly the same age and ap- 
pearance, seemingly equally attractive, a child too 
young to walk or talk, will go readily and eagerly 
to one, and strongly reject the other. This is not 
for nothing. There is some good reason in the 
natural instincts, or attractions and repulsions of 
the infant, and they should be respected. A child 
may and ought to be restrained from all active 



COMBATIVENESS. 211 

rudeness and intrusive familiarity, but should not be 
compelled to give or receive expressions of affection, 
in which, at every age, there should be the utmost 
freedom, consistent with order, or the rights of 
others. 

Combativeness has its etiquette. Witness the 
ceremonies of the duel. The first thing after an 
affront or an insult, or any injury demanding satis- 
faction, is in the politest manner possible to present 
your card to the person offending. It is a demand 
for an apology or satisfaction. If an apology can 
be given ; if the offence was unintentional, or hasty 
and regretted, it is given on the spot, and with tht 
utmost politeness. Otherwise, cards are exchanged 
There must be no blustering, bullying, or any exhi 
bition of anger, but everything calm and dignified, 
and, above all, ceremoniously polite. If the chal- 
lenging party, you find your friend, and consult 
with him on the terms of the challenge. This must 
be as politely and elegantly written as possible. It 
must be delivered and received with all courtesy. 
Your second will be formally introduced to the 
second of the challenging party. You meet your 
adversary, you fight, you kill or are killed ; and all 
without one word or act, which is not characterized 
by the most gentlemanly politeness. 

Even in the ring, where men beat each other's 
faces to jelly with their fists, they bow to each 
other and shake hands in the most gentlemanly 
manner possible. 

The ill-mannered manifestations of this faculty are 
quarrelsomeness, a testy temper, bullying, boasting 
of courage and prowess, and a contentious, dispu- 
tatious spirit, which is utterly opposed to the calm 
and gentle breeding of a truly gentlemanly spirit- 



272 DESTRUCTIVENESS. 

On the other hand, a want of this faculty may ren- 
der one too tolerant of impositions and intrusions. 
Assume the true spirit of a man or woman of cour- 
age. There is no worse social reputation than that 
of being a poltroon, a coward, and a sneak. 

The low and brutal exercises of combativeness in 
dog fights, bull baits, and pugilism, are sufficiently 
unrefined. 

Destrudiveness, as manifested in its highest ex- 
pression, in the art of war, is full of etiquette ; and 
those who are commissioned to destroy each other, 
exchange the most gentlemanly courtesies on every 
convenient occasion. It violates good breeding 
in exhibitions of spite, malice, slander, violent an- 
ger, and rage ; in tearing, breaking, or damaging 
furniture, books, pictures, &c. Some persons have 
the faculty of ruining everything they touch ; they 
tear, rend, smash, and crush things. They lean back 
in chairs until they break them. They whittle ta- 
bles and benches. 

Cruelty, in whatever way exhibited, to men or 
animals, to individuals or classes, is ill-manners. We 
have grave doubts of the gentlenianliness of killing 
small and innoxious animals, for mere sport. We 
do not well see how a tender hearted lady can tole- 
rate a man who shoots the beautiful and beneficent 
song birds, those embodiments of beauty, melody, 
and bliss. The chase is called a noble sport • a 
gentlemanly diversion. Even ladies sometimes en- 
gage in it. It has fine accessories of exercise and 
sylvan enjoyment, but the part that consists in rid- 
ing fine horses to death in pursuit of a forlorn fox, 
or timid hare, or agonized deer, seems to us too in* 
human to be altogether polite. 

Adkesivefiess — the beautiful sentiment of friend- 



ADHESIVENESS. 273 

Snip, which appears to be at the basis of our social 
attractions — has, of course, its rights and its per- 
versions. To be friendly is one of the first of social 
duties ; to enjoy the pleasures of friendship is one 
of the first objects of society. Adhesiveness is the 
attraction which draws and binds together conge- 
nial souls. 

But friendship has its clear and well defined 
boundaries ; and whenever a friend encroaches upon 
the rights of the individual, he becomes unmannerly. 
" If I can't take liberties with my friends, with 
whom can I V } you ask me, quoting a favorite pro- 
verb with impertinent people. You ought to !* take 
liberties" with no person whatever. To " take lib- 
erties " always means to do some very improper 
thing. The way to make friendships lasting and 
happy, is never to violate the principles of courtesy 
or good breeding with those you call your, friends 
They are entitled to as good treatment, to say the 
least, as other people — yet they often get the worst. 

The errors of adhesiveness are its mawkish pa- 
rade of caresses ; the huggings and fondlings of 
young misses ; the bearish rudenesses of overgrown 
boys ; and the intrusions and impositions of per- 
sons who, under plea of friendship, make them- 
selves our persecutors and despots. " Save me 
from my friends I" is a classic proverb. " Call you 
this backing your friends ?" indignantly asks one ol 
Shakspeare's heroes. Friendship is an excuse for a 
thousand impertinences, injuries, robberies, and out- 
rages. Your friend fails to keep appointments ; 
borrows your money and Dever pays ; destroys 
your credit ; wins your mistress ; gets your office ; 
mismanages your affairs — all in friendship. 

Inhabitiveness, the sentiment of home, or patriot- 
18 



214 SELF-ESTEEM. 

ism, takes on at times the perversity of contemning' 
and ill using all persons not born in the same vicin- 
ity. The good lady who wondered how anybody 
could live so far off from her domicil, is a proverbial 
instance. True politeness is cosmopolitan. It goes 
like sunshine around the globe. Like the ocean, it 
encloses all continents. Like the atmosphere, it 
envelops all humanity. There is nothing narrow 
or sectional in any great thought or love. All true 
and truly noble things are universal. The English- 
man who drives over Europe or America with his 
nose turned up in scorn of everything that differs 
from what he finds at 'ome, is a notable specimen 
of bad manners and stupid conceit. All national 
prejudices betoken a narrow spirit, and their expres- 
sion is often the height of insolent vulgarity and ill- 
manners. The most intelligent gentleman is the 
most free from such perversities. 

Self-Esteem is, in its proper action, supported and 
modified by the neighboring faculties of its own 
group, the foundation of dignity, self-respect, self- 
assertion, and that noble pride which scorns every 
mean and ungentlemanly action. 

A person destitute of self-esteem is constantly 
liable to fall into some vanity, imitation, or excess, 
which makes an unpleasant impression upon others. 
A man who is so meek and humble as to defer to 
every one — who is wanting in self-appreciation and 
self-respect, can scarcely have the bearing of a gen- 
tleman, or hold the rank of one in any general 
society. 

The other and more offensive extreme, which 
shows itself in air, gesture, tone, and conversation, 
is a haughty, self-sufficient, supercilious pride, which 
is a general insult. This is the pride which goeth 



APPROBATIVENESS. 



2TD 



before destruction, and the haughty spirit which 
must have a fall, since all must inevitably conspire 
against it. The pride which scorns the good opin- 
ion and the rights of others, can bring nothing but 
contempt and mortification upon its possessor. 

Approbativmess is the special faculty of good 
manners and an amiable deportment. A desire of 
the good opinion of others is the natural check and 




■AFPROBATIVENESS LARGB. 



276 CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. 

balance of our own self-estimation. It is the foun- 
dation of the love and all the arts of pleasing, and 
the main-spring of social success. It seeks appro- 
val, fame, applause. Its excess or perversity is an 
inordinate vanity, which manifests itself in a thou- 
sand ridiculous follies ; an insane desire for notoriety 
for its own dear sake ; an undignified regard for the 
opinions of others ; a perpetual fidget about what 
Mrs. Grundy will say. Pride is a vice that pro- 
vokes hatred ; vanity is a folly that causes ridicule 
and even contempt. 

Excessive or disordered approbativeness causes a 
mean submission to even the basest public opinion, 
a foolish surrender of personal rights, a cowardly 
apprehension of censure or ridicule, a morbid crav- 
ing for popularity, and petty social distinctions. Its 
faults are less offensive to others than ridiculous in 
themselves. 

Conscientiousness, small, or paralyzed in its action, 
may leave the individual to inflict all the wrongs 
and outrages of dishonesty. The conduct of the 
true gentleman — and that of a lady is, with slight 
modifications, the same — must be founded upon jus- 
tice, or its other and prouder name, honor. Any 
dishonorable act — any dishonest one — any one which 
is opposed to the principles of justice, or the rights 
of any being, is a breach of good manners. 

But a warped and morbid conscientiousness is, 
perhaps, as bad in its results, as the lack of such a 
faculty. Does any one doubt that all the horrors 'of 
religious fanaticism ; the torturings and burnings of 
the inquisition ; and all those assaults upon indi- 
vidual rights, from the dark ages of the past, to the 
blue laws and puritanical persecutions of more re- 
cent times, were done in all good conscience ? Saul 



REVERENCE. 2*T7 

was educated a gentleman ; but it was a rude and 
ill-mannered thing, a violation of every principle of 
good breeding for him to assist at the stoning of 
Stephen. All bigotry, of whatever kind ; whether 
it burns a brother man at the stake in this world, 
or dooms him to torments in the next, has in it the 
elements of a discourteous spirit. We controvert 
no creed — it would not be polite for us to do so — 
we seek only to characterize the workings of a mor- 
bid conscientiousness, which seems to us opposed to 
that charity, and justice, which should preside over 
the relations of human society. 

Firmness, while it sustains the dignity of a true 
pride ; while it gives consistency and perseverance 
to the efforts of an intelligent approbativeness ; is a 
fine element of a gentlemanly character. To be 
firm, steadfast, reliable, always to be depended upon, 
never vascillating, uncertain and contradictory — ■ 
these are truly respectable and excellent traits. 
But a conceited opiniativeness ; a mulish obstinacy, 
a dogged perseverance in wrong, a persistence in 
stupidity, are elements of character than which few 
are more unamiable or more annoying. Firmness 
in right is heroic ; stubbornness in trifles is mere 
donkeyism ; persistence in wrong is utter depravity 
— and also very bad manners ; if, indeed, we can 
make any such distinction. The vascillation, weak- 
ness, and utter unreliableness, of a lack of this qual- 
ity, produce violations of good behavior, more an- 
noying even, than those caused by its excess. 

Reverence, or the instinct, or sentiment of respect, 
veneration, and adoration, is active in all persons 
who regard the forms and relations of society. 
Upon it is founded, reverence for parents, teachers, 
and superiors, loyalty to sovereignties, and obedi- 



278 BENEVOLENCE. 

ence to laws and institutions. It is the organ of 
Order, in politics, religion, and society. Its excess 
leads to various fanaticisms, and a slavish subser- 
viency to rank, wealth, or position ; which is the 
essential of the most vulgar " snobbery." In Eng- 
land, reverence is large, and active in particular 
directions. It is a very sturdy Englishman, who 
will not take off his hat to a lord, be his lordship 
ever so stupid or ridiculous a person. The error of 
excessive or ill-directed reverence, scarcely runs into 
other ill-manners, than an undignified obsequious- 
ness and humility, which are annoying to every per- 
son of sense. 

On the other hand, the lack of this sentiment 
leaves the unhappy individual open to all the blun- 
ders and outrages of impudence, presumption, buf- 
foonery, and all the impertinences of those terrible 
characters of whom it is said in the scriptures, that 
" they neither fear God nor regard man." Such a 
man might be expected to salute the Emperor of 
all the Russias as " Old Nick !" to offer to kiss 
Queen Victoria ; to slap the President on the back, 
call him " Old Hoss !" and insist upon his going 
out to take a drink. Erom such persons, you are 
never safe ; they are the terror of every company. 
Avoid them ; and above all avoid any imitation of 
their dreadful manners. 

Benevolence, the foundation of all politeness, the 
goodness of heart upon which all manner, which is 
not a mere imitation, depends, is equally absurd, 
annoying, and false in its excesses. " Killing with 
kindness " is not a mere flower of rhetoric. People 
are killed, at all stages of mortal life, by the inordi- 
nate and unwise action of benevolence. Over fed, 
oyer drank, over dressed, over caressed — morally 



IMITATION. 279 

overlaid and smothered in good ft eling. Half of 
the annoyances we meet in society are inflicted with 
the best possible motives and the kindest intentions. 
A false benevolence — the fear of hurting somebody's 
feelings, leads to much of the falsehood and misery 
of life. This sentiment needs very much the guid- 
ance of the intellect, and the restraints of justice. 
Generosity is one of the noblest and most indispen- 
sable characteristics of a gentleman. It is not 
enough to be simply just. If we only do what is 
required, what reward have we ? We cannot go a 
step beyond ; and no trait, so quickly and certainly 
as generosity, stamps one "a perfect gentleman" — a 
reputation which can no more be obtained by a 
niggard than a cheat. In giving, we must give 
nobly, aud often a very little makes all the differ- 
ence. The man is "a perfect gentleman" who 
gives twenty-five cents, when, if he 
gave only twenty, he would be thought 
and called a sneak. Give a little 
more than is expected always, as the 
overplus tells more in the feelings and 
opinions of others than all the rest. 
Beware of a reputation for stingyness ; 
and if you have any tendency in this 
direction, make a principle of guarding 
against the manifestation of so odious and ungen- 
tlemanly a vice. 

Imitation, an organ near benevolence, has proba- 
bly more to do with practical good manners, and 
the action of politeness and civility, than any other. 
It supplies the lack of self-esteem', of approbativeness, 
of reverence, of benevolence. It enables us to assume 
a virtue, or a grace — to seem what we wish to be, 
or to have others think us. It is active in children, 




280 



IMITATION. 



who learn insensibly, when placed in advantageous 
circumstances, all that is needful. In acquiring the 
air and carriage of body, the tones and modulations 
of the voice, the graces of dancing and singing, it 
is a faculty of the first importance, and makes up 
for the lack of much spontaneous excellence — for 
there are some who do all things well without 
models for imitation, and as the mere expression of 
their inward natures. 

Large and unguarded imitation leads to many 
violations of good manners. It often prompts to 
an imitation of bad ones ; and even good points it 
is liable to overdo and caricature ridiculously. 




IDEALITY. 



281 



It is undignified and offensive often, when it lead3 
to broad mimicry, which, though 
pleasant enough when prompted 
by mirthfulness and guarded by 
benevolence and justice, is but too 
apt to be an instrument of malice 
and hatred. Imitation must an- 
swer for the caricatures of gentil- 
ity we meet with everywhere in 
overdone dandyism, in extrava- 
gances of fashion, and in a thou- 
sand follies and absurdities, some 
of which are amusing, some annoy- 
ing, and some most deeply to be 
deplored, sacrificing character, 
health, and even life itself. The 
waspy waist, the cramped foot, ex- 
travagances and nudities, all fol- 
low the frog that tried to be an ox. 

Ideality, in its harmonious development, gives the 
idea and the expression of the beautiful, the grace- 
ful, the noble and magnificent, in deportment, in 
costume, in all conditions and observances. It raises 
its possessor above all meanness or ugliness ; it is 
never low, never commonplace. It is the element 
of poetry, and the finest expression in every kind 
of art. In excess it gives an exaggeration of pom- 
posity or super-elegance to the manner, and leads 
to the high-flown and bombastic in conversation. 
"There is but one step from the sublime to the 
ridiculous," and that is often taken by persons with 
an excessive or ill-balanced Ideality, whose proper 
guide is a strong common sense. 

Ideality and Hope lead to many errors of life, 
from the influence of exaggerated plans and expec- 




282 CAUTIOUSNESS. 

tations of life. Persons so constituted continually 
make engagements they must violate, and promises 
they cannot fulfill. An unbalanced and ignorant 
ideality produces much ridiculous over-doing of 
fashions and manners. On the other hand, the ab- 
sence of this sentiment leaves one tame, common- 
place, and with a literal matter-of-factness and 
absence of taste and ornament worthy of the un- 
palmy days of the Puritans or the Quakers ; people 
who imagine that our most beautiful faculties, and 
those intended to beautify and adorn us and our 
earthly home, are sinful. Strange perversity ! 

Cautiousness, the element of prudence, is, in its 
normal and harmonic action, a most gentlemanly 
faculty. It moderates the action and expressions 
of love, friendship, pugnacity, vanity, pride, and 
even conscience. It is a perpetual check and guard 
upon the behavior. It says always, Wait, consider, 
take care. It makes us thoughtful of all emer- 
gencies, and ready for all trials. Its excess leads 
to cowardice, timidity, bashfulness, awkwardness, a 
shilly-shally want of decision and promptness, a 
fear of consequences, and in connection with large 
approbativeness, a most miserable and contemptible 
cravenness and coward dread of any disapproba- 
tion, and a disposition to do any false or absurd 
thing when a false and absurd public opinion de- 
mands it. The lack of a proper development of 
caution leads to the opposite errors, and to the un 
guarded manifestations of all excessive faculties 
" Be bold, but not too bold," is the motto of a gen 
tleman. 

Acquisitiveness — the propensity to acquire, to 
gather, and keep wealth, or its representatives, and 
the things that command it. To create riches by 



ACQUISITIVENESS. 283 

industry ; to accumulate a wealth of useful and 
beautiful things around us, is a high right, and an 
important duty of humanity. Every one is not 
only justified but required to gather about him, 
whatever wealth he can acquire by a proper and 
healthful industry, and without inflicting a wrong, 
or interfering with the equal right and duty of 
every other person. All accumulation of riches is 
right, which inflicts no wrong. To be honestly rich, 
to be rich with a full recognition of the rights of 
others, is noble, and praiseworthy in all respects. 
Every one has the right to acquire, by just and 
equitable means, land, a home of beauty, food, 
clothing, books, pictures, all that can contribute to 
the necessaries, the real enjoyments, and true luxu- 
ries of life. 

To exercise this great fundamental faculty, in 
excess, in injustice, in grasping avarice and greed 
for gain, in grinding the face of the poor, in spolia- 
tion and plunder of any kind, whether on a large 
or small scale, and by whatever trick or chicane of 
finance, commerce, or legalized robbery, is contrary 
to justice, and so unworthy of a gentleman. 

No gentleman or lady can be niggard, stingy, 
selfish, and mean. Avarice is one of the most un- 
gentlemanly vices, as it is opposed to the two noble 
virtues of justice and generosity. The lack of this 
faculty leads to a very ungentlemanly condition — 
that of poverty — a condition which requires great 
excellence of character to bear with dignity. A 
poor man is exposed to a thousand temptations to 
shabby and even criminal actions, which the rich 
can never know. It is not easy — it may not be 
possible to be rich, without injustice, except by in- 
heritance ; and then a man gets that to which his 



284 SECRETTVENESS. 

right is very doubtful ; but it is an unquestionable 
duty to avoid the temptations, the privations and 
miseries of indigence. 

Construdiveness relates to all the conveniences, 
elegances, and splendors of architecture, one of the 
most noble and useful of human arts. Its excesses 
are seen in ruinous expenditures, and extravagant 
displays ; when wanting, people are content with 
poor, ill-conditioned, and inconvenient habitations, 
unfitted to a proper dignity, and enjoyment of life. 
Constructiveness also expends its energies on the 
making of furniture, dress, ornaments, and most 
articles of productive industry. 

Secretiveness, if we allow such a faculty, distinct 
from caution, is the absolute requisite of a lady or 
gentleman. A man who turns himself inside out — i 
who blabs of his own business and that of others — 
whom no one can trust — who exposes all his con- 
ditions and relations, — is a very unpleasant member 
of society. There are people of worse intentions, 
but few more likely to be detested. Frankness, can- 
dor, sincerity, within the limits of good taste and jus- 
tice, are fine and noble characteristics. Cunning, 
sly, suspicious, mysterious, and equivocating people 
are not amiable ; but the power to conceal one's 
own affairs, or the secrets of others, is a necessity — a 
very urgent need, in our present state of individual, 
and, consequently, social imperfection and discord- 
ance. " Be ye therefore as wise as serpents and 
harmless as doves." Every faculty is right when it 
has its right uses. None are evil but in excess, in 
lack, or in discordant or unbalanced action. The 
true character results from the healthy development 
and harmonious action of all the faculties ; and the 
result of this harmony is the true life. 



INDIVIDUALITY. 285 

The intellectual faculties proper, have much to do 
with social expression. " Comparisons," Mrs. Mal- 
aprop has long since observed, " are odorous." A 
silent comparison of ourselves, our style, acquire- 
ments, taste, and position, with those of others, is an 
effective mode of self-education. But we can scarcely 
do worse than to give to others the result of such 
comparisons. The religious Pharisee who says, 
" Stand by, I am holier than thou," is but little 
worse than the fashionable Pharisee who does the 
same. Avoid carefully all comparisons of persons 
and things in your conversation ; or even the im- 
plied comparison, and disparagement of praising 
the goods and graces of other people, to those who 
may be less fortunate. 

Causality, tends to produce a too ardent spirit 
of inquiry into- the reasons and origin of things, 
which may be impertinent and annoying. 

Individuality and Eventuality prompt to inquisi- 
tiveness and telling stories — the elements of gossip, 
of which 

" Beware ! O, beware ! 
List ye no ditty, grant ye no prayer," 

to tell what you shouldn't 

Of the lesser perceptives, Form, Size, Color, have 
much to do with taste, fashion, and style of person, 
dress, and appointments, of which see elsewhere. 
Time regards the relation of seasonableness, and 
the prime and indispensable virtue of punctuality — 
in keeping an appointment with a lady, for example. 
Tune has social relations of the highest and most 
extensive character. Music, in fact, the best under- 
stood, the most generally appreciated of the mathe- 
matical arts and sciences, gives us a perfect key to 



286 



STARS OF THE OPERA. 



social science, and analogue of social harmonies. Its 
observances and annoyances we have noted — we 
shall speak elsewhere of it, as a fashionable and de- 
sirable accomplishment. 




arias or the ofsra. 



CHAPTER XYII. 



LOVE AND COURTSHIP. 



love is the grand pivotal 
passion of Society. It 
"rules the camp, the 
court, the grove f in 
poetry ; in real life, it 
rules society ; it is its 
object, its charm, its at- 
traction, its chief ele- 
ment, and its preserver. 
We shall not underrate 
its importance — we can- 
not over-estimate its in- 
fluence. 

For all society, pro- 
perly so called, is the re- 
sult of the mutual attrac- 
tion of the sexes for each 
other ; and social forms, 
observances, occasions, and amusements, and pleas- 
ures, are all subordinate to this end — all intended 
to satisfy this central attraction. There is no soci- 
ety, otherwise. Clubs, where men meet to read 
newspapers, talk -politics, dine, and play together, 
are not society. Tea-drinkings, and other exclusive 
assemblages of the ladies, are not society. These 




288 LOVE OF THE SEXES. 

are its severed halves, which require to come to- 
gether. 

You cannot imagine anything worthy of the name 
of society, which has not the grace and charm of 
feminine loveliness ; no more can it dispense with 
the manly element. The true center, the real pivot, 
the absolute animus or soul of society is therefore 
the sexual attraction. We do not use this term in 
any low or coarse sense ; but in its highest, and 
most refined signification. Love, in its various mo- 
difications, but essentially, the love of the sexes for 
each other, is the first, and the indispensable ele- 
ment of society, and the one to which all others are 
subordinate. 

So important and fundamental an idea is worthy 
of the fullest illustration. Can a party be a party, 
with no men, or no women ? It would be hard to 
say which of the halves of the social body would be 
the most forlorn. Can we imagine a pic-nic, or a 
sleigh ride, all of one sex ? Can there be a ball, 
with no beaux, or no belles ? "With all the attrac- 
tions of the stage, the theater is forlorn without 
ladies — but if there were none either on the stage, 
or in the audience, who would go ? In short, the 
only way to come to any "realizing sense" of the 
nature and force of this social bond, is to suppose 
its absence. 

The existence of society ; the necessity of man- 
ners ; the motive of conversation ; the charm of all 
social life, is the attraction which men have to wo- 
men, and women to men ; and this attraction, ex- 
isting as interest, friendship, gallantry, and finding 
satisfaction in presence, conversation, contact, and 
flirtation, is, in its purest form, and its highest ex- 
pression, the passion of love. 



ATTRACTION. 289 

It follows that there can be no more important 
chapter in this book than the one that treats of 
this pivotal passion, unless it be the one which dis- 
cusses its results — the one immediately following. 
Its treatment may seem difficult and delicate, but 
we have only to apply to love and its expressions 
the principles of taste, benevolence, and justice. 

There is no good reason why this subject of love 
should be shrouded in mystery — for it- is the one 
subject which occupies, more than all others, all 
human thoughts. Poetry is filled with it. Ro- 
mance is replete with it. The drama, tragic, comic, 
or operatic, turns ever upon it. It finds a large 
space in history. It is the most interesting theme 
of society. As attraction, its more formal name, it 
governs matter as well as mind ; atoms and planets, 
suns and systems. Attractions and repulsions go- 
vern the world, and their equilibrium in action con- 
stitues the universal harmony. 

We shall not discuss love physiologically or 
morally, physically or spiritually ; but, recognizing 
it as an existing human fact, motive, and condition, 
give the character of its manifestations. 

A young man entering society at the age when 
young men begin to be desirable members — which 
is not until they are capable of the tender passion — 
is likely to be attracted to one or more persons. 
The first attraction of a very young man is likely 
to be a lady of mature years, and this sentiment, 
when it can be indulged without ridicule or scandal, 
and has for its object a woman of taste and charac- 
ter, is a great good fortune. It is the true and 
natural mode of completing the education. Such a 
woman is just the teacher and friend a young man 
needs to polish his manners, refine his taste, improve 
19 



290 SOCIAL ATTRACTIONS. 

his understanding, and ripen his heart. It is a re- 
lation of tender devotion on one side, and of a 
proud and careful inentorship on the other. 

In France, where, under all forms of government, 
there has been more social freedom and true refine- 
ment among the educated classes than in other 
countries, this relation exists now as it did in the 
days of Chesterfield, and with the finest social 
results. With us there is less freedom and more 
suspi ion. There is the fear of ridicule on one side, 
and of scandal on the other ; and instead of young 
men forming beautiful and improving friendships 
with women of talent and experience, they fall into 
foolish flirtations, inconsiderate courtships, and im- 
prudent and unhappy marriages with girls of their 
own age. 

It is our opinion also that a similar attraction 
naturally exists between young girls and mature 
men, and that it might be equally advantageous ; 
but except in the case of parents, uncles, and such 
near relations, sociar customs do not admit of much 
experiment. 

In some respects, great freedom is allowed in 
American society ; in others, there is probably too 
much restraint. { So long as courtship is the object 
or pretext, and marriage the result, almost all lib- 
erties are permitted. Young ladies may receive 
their presumed admirers at all hours, accompany 
them to all places proper to go to at all, and in- 
dulge in more freedom than is permitted in the 
same classes of society elsewhere. In France, a 
young lady of any rank higher than the peasantry 
goes into no male society until she is married. Her 
husband is selected for her, and if the form of ask- 
ing consent is gone through with, it is seldom re- 



FIRST LOVE. 291 

fused. She takes the husband provided — is intro- 
duced to him when the contract is signed, and meets 
him at the altar. These are the social extremes. 
American customs allow much freedom to women 
before marriage — the French more. afterward. Here 
a woman begins with love and courtship, ending 
with marriage. There a woman commences her 
social experience with marriage, leaving love and 
courtship to come when they find opportunity. The 
French, of course, think theirs the best system — 
we, ours. Tastes differ, and so do moralities, very 
widely. 

Our duty is to explain the customs of our own 
society ; and we cannot do better, perhaps, than to 
give our advice separately to each sex, the converse 
of the one sometimes answering for the other. 

First, then, to the young gentleman. Dear Sir : 
— Your first danger is in falling in love at a too 
tender and impressible age, and before you go into 
society at all. You are sure to get smitten, spoony 
as you are, with some pretty little cousin, or some 
amiable and romantic bosom friend of your sister's. 
Avoid this, if you can — only you cannot. It will 
come to nothing. It is a deciduous leaf, and will 
drop off — a premature blossom, that will produce 
no fruit. Indulge the romance, if you must, but do 
not think it will last. But be very sure that you 
make no engagement, and don't run off to some 
accommodating parson or foolish justice of the 
peace, and get married. Such early marriages are 
not commendable, whatever your debating society 
has decided in the premises. 

]SFo, my dear fellow, don't be green. Love the 
beautiful darling as romantically as need be, but, if 
possible, keep it to yourself, until you can both go 



292 RASH ENGAGEMENTS. 

into society, look about you, and make comparisons. 
If your love will stand that, keeping itself fresh 
and pure against all other attractions, you may 
consider it what Fourier calls a pivotal love, and in 
due season govern yourselves accordingly. But be 
no party, my dear friend, in the inexperience of 
early youth, in the verdancy — if you will pardon 
the expression — of young goslinghood, don't be such 
a goose as to tie yourself and a fine spirited girl 
up to an engagement, honor, previous attachment, 
and a life-long he ! 

You owe it to yourself ; you owe it no less to the 
object of a youthful fancy, which experience and 
observation may dissipate, not to have any court- 
ship or committal ; no plighted faith, or bond, or 
engagement whatever, either expressed or under- 
stood. Marriage is too serious, and when unfortu- 
nate, too terribly fatal a thing for you to make any 
blunder about. Other mistakes can be rectified. 
Get into debt, and you may pay. Get into bad 
habits, and you may reform. Get into prison, and 
you may serve out your time ; but the marriage 
noose is like the hangman's in one respect, however 
pleasant it may and ought to be in others. An 
unfortunate marriage is the unpardonable sin, as 
far as this world is concerned, whatever comfort 
there may be for it in the other. 

Hence some have gone so far as to oppose mar- 
riage altogether, and others have tried to virtually 
abolish it by advocating freedom of divorce ; but 
Horace Greeley and other moralists have clearly 
shown that, inasmuch as marriage is the foundation 
of the state, and the key-stone of society, it ought 
to be preserved and sustained pure and inviolate, 
at whatever expense of individual suffering. 



MARRIAGEABLE CONDITIONS. 293 

"We have nothing left, then, but to counsel great 
caution not to mistake a fleeting fancy for a perma- 
nent attachment, which will justify an engagement. 
Go into society free — free at least from any out- 
ward enthrallment. Become acquainted with all 
those ladies, of whatever age, who seem pleasant, 
charming, or attractive to you. Pay them those 
general and graceful attentions which are so becom- 
ing, and usually so welcome, Troni a well-bred young 
gentleman. Be not so particular in your attentions 
as to allow yourself to be appropriated by one, 
and consequently shunned by others. When the 
customs of society permit, all danger of this kind is 
avoided by your paying most attention to married 
ladies ; but in this you must be governed by local 
customs, for there are portions of this country 
where young men have been killed by jealous hus- 
bands, and if 'brought to trial, juries have justified 
the homicide. I am not speaking of immoral 
amours, but of those attentions which an honorable 
man may pay and a virtuous lady receive. 

At twenty-five, if established in life, or with a 
reasonable prospect of being able to support a fam- 
ily, a young man may think of marriage. If, in 
the society he frequents, he finds some person of 
suitable age, position, and attraction ; one whom, 
compared with all others, satisfies his judgment, as 
well as inspires his love ; one for whom he feels that 
he can give up all other attractions ; the one who 
meets him like destiny in the path of life ; then let 
him frankly and honorably offer her those particular 
regards, those delicate attentions, which portend 
the offer of the heart. 

And even now, let him beware of any rashness or 
mistake. If he would be sure of the state of his 



294 PRUDENT CAUTIONS. 

own heart, lie should wish to be no less sure of the 
real relation existing between him and the woman 
he would make his partner for life. In a flirtation 
— in a passing amour — in an engagement that may 
be severed by mutual consent, or the choice of 
either, it would be of less importance ; but in the 
indissoluble marriage of the church and the law of 
most of our states, a bond that only crime or death 
can dissolve, great caution is requisite. Beware of 
surprising a woman who may be merely pleased 
with you, into an engagement she will feel bound to 
keep, however false. Beware of taking from be- 
nevolence, or prudence, what belongs to love. Be- 
ware that you are not indebted less to love, than 
the managing of matchmaking intermeddlers, and 
the importunities of relations — and especially beware 
of this, if you know yourself to be a desirable match 
in point of fortune and position. Beware, even, 
that what you mistake for love, and what the lady 
sincerely believes to be such, is only an approving 
taste, gratified vanity, and benevolence. 

In your attentions ; in your declarations ; in the 
prudence and frankness of your whole deportment, 
make sure of your own sentiments, and of those of 
the lady ; and when thus sure, express yourself, 
either personally, or by letter, in a frank and hon- 
orable manner, having no doubt of the character of 
your feelings and wishes. 

A love affair, of whatever kind, and more espe- 
cially one that looks to marriage as its result, is to 
be conducted with caution and delicacy. Avoid 
confidants, especially of your own sex. If you trust 
any one, let it be your mother, or one worthy to 
take her place, or a really good sister. Avoid too 
great intimacy with the lady of your love. I do not 



FORMS OF COURTSHIP. 295 

mean that you should not be well acquainted ; or 
very frank in tli e expression of tastes and opinions ; 
but you should be very certain of the nature of your 
relation to each other, before you indulge in any 
personal familiarities, because, aside from their im- 
propriety, in point of taste or morals, they may lead 
to that intoxication of the senses which may obscure 
the judgment, and lead you into error. 

And when, you have made your most formal de- 
claration, made by your eyes and sighs a thousand 
times before, and accurately described in a thousand 
novels, and acted in a thousand plays ; when you 
have been accepted ; the engagement made, and the 
day appointed, pardon us, if we say, that complying 
with so many forms of society, you may as well not 
violate any. Be discreet in your raptures ; and set 
about preparing with all diligence and dignity, for 
the change that awaits you. 

In this country, young ladies claim the right of 
deciding for themselves, and the form of asking pa 
is not always complied with ; but as marriage in- 
troduces you into certain relations to the family of 
the bride, it is proper that you should ask consent. 
It is seldom refused without good reason. 

Ought you to regard property, position, &c, in 
choosing a wife ? Choosing a wife — this phrase 
answers the question. Do you choose ; then it is 
proper that you should take into consideration every 
circumstance that can influence your choice. Birth 
or blood, family, social position, fortune — all these 
have combined to make a lady what she actually is 
in physical beauty, style, education, mind and heart. 
She owes her nose to one ancestor, and her foot to 
another. Her beauty comes from a great grand- 
mother, as lur fortune from a rich grandfather. If 



296 CHOOSING A WIFE. 

you regard qualities — if you choose at all, chooso 
for everything that is desirable. 

If you hold, however, that matches are made in 
heaveu ; that the matter is settled by destiny ; that 
men and women are created in couples, and that 
each one has a predestined mate ; then there is no 
choice in the matter, and you must take the one 
provided, if you can get her ; or shut your eyes, 
open your arms, and embrace for life the woman 
who falls into them. 

If we may be permitted to offer an opinion on a 
subject of such delicacy, and at the same time of 
such importance, it is that the facts of human expe- 
rience do not favor the theory of the fatalists, or 
the inevitable fore-ordained pair. If the Almighty 
had created pairs expressly fitted for each other, 
he would also have provided means for bringing 
them together, and there could have been no un- 
happy marriages except where this intention had 
been defeated. The theory of a single pair of con- 
jugal partners is also opposed to second marriages, 
which indeed are strongly condemned by many, as 
well as to the possible reality of many seeming 
loves, either existing successively, or at the same 
time for different individuals. 

From what we have observed of human society 
and relations through many years, and in various 
spheres of life, we are inclined to the belief that 
there are groups or classes of persons of a certain 
mental and physical constitution, who are fitted to 
attract each other in the relations of love. Each 
individual seems to belong to a particular type or 
class of persons, all having similar qualities, and a 
man loving any one woman would, under any other 
circumstances, love any other of the same class 



ATTRACTION OF GROUPS. 29 1 

wherever found. Thus a man might go to a hun- 
dred different places, and in the society of each 
might find some woman of the peculiar type suited 
to his highest affectional attraction. 

This seems a more reasonable theory, and more in 
accordance with other arrangements of nature and 
provisions .of infinite benevolence, than the other 
theory ; it also accounts for many facts of human 
experience, not otherwise accountable. Fourier, in 
his curious and profound analysis of human charac- 
ter and passions, calculates that all varieties can be 
found in a society of twenty-seven hundred persons, 
and most types in smaller assemblages. There are 
probably few young men who could not, in any 
society of three or four hundred ladies, find some 
one who would correspond to his ideal ; but if there 
were only one created on the planet, and he should 
be separated from her, or she should die, or make a 
mistake and marry the wrong one, his case would 
be forlorn indeed. 

"Wait for the right one" — wait patiently and 
bravely ; but be sure that there are many right 
ones. Marriage may be, as some ill-natured philos- 
opher has said, like putting your hand into a bag 
where there are ninety-nine snakes to one eel ; but 
the mistake is in putting your hand into a bag at 
all. Open the bag, turn snakes and eel into the 
light of day, keep your eyes wide open, and you 
need make no mistake ; and the comparison holds 
good so far as you can truly know the character of 
those about you. 

Love is an instinct ; and when the mind is honest 
and the life is pure, we are naturally attracted to 
those who are fitted to attract us. There are intu- 
itions of the real character and the interior or spirit- 



2y5 BREACH OF PROMISE. 

ual life, which people are compelled to respect. 
Many a man has foolishly entered npon a flirtation 
— been drawn into an engagement, and compelled 
to marry, against his strongest repulsions. Fathers, 
mothers, brothers, and whole circles of relations 
sometimes join to surround a victim, and drive him 
into the trap set for him. Beware, then, of all ap- 
pearances that may lead to such consequences. 
Enter upon no particular attentions to any lady, 
toward whom you have not honorable intentions. 
It is dangerous to yourself — it may be utterly cruel 
to one who, though not suited to you, may be a 
most estimable person. 

But if you make a mistake, the moment you sus- 
pect it, never stop until you are satisfied. Come to 
a frank explanation. Have no nonsense about it. 
Apologize for your error — express your regrets — 
make any amends in your power — be sued, fight, 
do anything but marry. If you have promised to 
do a false, miserable and revolting thing, you are 
not to add to the misfortune by keeping such a 
promise. A promise to commit a crime is not bind- 
ing, and such a marriage is a crime. Though the 
day be set — though you stand before the altar — 
even there stop rather than commit the perjury and 
sacrilege of taking upon you vows you cannot keep. 
For you promise at marriage to love — you promise 
to love her, and her only, and while life shall last 
Now if this contract, promise, or oath is anything, 
you ought not to take it, with a doubt even of yoxnr 
ability to fulfil the sacred pledge. If you feel 
that you do not love her ; if you fear that you will 
ever cease to love her, or that you can or will ever 
love another while she lives, your marriage vow is 
a sham and a mockery. Thus the need of caution 



ADVICE TO LADIES. 299 

is obvious ; and though it may be thought dishon- 
orable to break an engagement to marry, by either 
party, yet it must be much worse to stand a per- 
jurer at the marriage altar. 

Do we view this matter too seriously ? A false, 
or unloving marriage relation is not only a curse to 
the individuals contracting it, but to their children 
and to posterity. It is, perhaps, on this account, 
the very worst of human evils. We shall be glad 
if any advice of ours shall render it of less frequent 
occurrence. 

The young lady who has read thus far our sug- 
gestions to young gentlemen, on a subject of such 
deep interest to both sexes, may scarcely be willing 
to accept the advice of one who expresses his opin- 
ions so bluntly. My friend, it is for your good I 
write. It is to save you and your sisters from 
calamities you perhaps little dream of. It is, if 
possible, to secure your happiness, in the most ten- 
der and beautiful of human relations, when it is 
real and truthful. 

You are counseled to a modest reserve on your 
entrance in society. I advise you to a frank and 
not too reserved acquaintance with the other sex. 
Be as free as you are innocent — not free to commit 
or suffer any impropriety of conduct, or immodesty 
of discourse or behavior ; but free to converse and 
to become thoroughly acquainted with the most 
estimable men you meet. Prize the company of 
elderly men, if they are good and simple-hearted ; 
prefer mature and even married men to young 
beaux and coxcombs. Be in no hurry to have it 
thought that you have caught an admirer ; hurry 
no courtship into an engagement ; make no engage- 
ment from which you cannot honorably withdraw at 



300 LOVE ETERNAL. 

the first prompting of your heart ; and never stand 
up to be married to a man who is not only wor- 
thy of your deepest love, but whom you actually 
love with an entire devotion. 

This love is an element of your own being. You 
love for yourself, and if you marry it is the destiny, 
happy or miserable, of your own life. Do not 
marry for others. No human being has the right 
to violate any true instinct of your woman's heart, 
or put a constraint upon your love. I write this 
for those who have hearts, and who are capable of 
loving. But I advise you also not to mistake a 
caprice, a fancy, a romantic day-dream, the reflec- 
tion of some want, for a great and true passion. 
First love is never last love, unless the soul is 
crushed under some despotism. T have known a 
whole series of light fancies, which might have 
been mistaken for loves, to be followed by the ear- 
nest passion of a life. 

A passion always asserts its own eternity. To- 
day you love, and oh ! forever, some charming and 
adorable young gentleman with black eyes and 
raven hair. He goes away ; you dry your eyes ; 
and then comes an everlasting passion for a much 
handsomer young gentleman, with blue eyes and 
auburn locks — and so on. These fancies float across 
the romantic mind of a young girl like clouds across 
the summer sky ; beautiful but fleeting. Yet such 
a girl may wake from these dreams some day to the 
reality of a great love. Pray that it be not when 
her fate in life is irrevocably fixed. 

The best security for the truth of love, and the 
consequent happiness of marriage, is to form many 
and various acquaintances. If you are secluded 
from society, or seclude yourself in society ; if you 



GENERAL OBSERVATIONS. 301 

are deprived of the freedom that is your right as a 
human being ; you cannot have this -opportunity of 
forming a right judgment. We should do one 
thing or the other. Parents should either institute 
the marriage of convenience, and choose husbands 
for their daughters, or they should permit them the 
freedom necessary to make their own choice. Now 
they are first deprived of the freedom indispensable 
to a true knowledge of character, and then blamed, 
and punished a life-time for making an improper 
choice. 

Having given so much earnest advice on this 
important subject to persons of both sexes, we shall 
make a few general observations, which we hope 
may be found 

" Though brief, yet clear ; though gentle, yet not dull." 

Do not forget the proverb, which you are to re- 
member not to quote, " There are as good fish in 
the sea as ever were caught." No one was intend- 
ed by a good Providence to die of a broken heart. 
People do so die — die from isolation, from the be- 
lief that the only one in the world that could make 
them happy is lost to them. If a gentleman is 
jilted wilfully, it is a lucky escape. If he lose the 
object of his affections by some misfortune, or by 
the fault of others, he may be sure that there are 
others as worthy ; and his next choice, if he be 
true to himself, will probably be still higher. 

In the same way, a lady who finds herself desert- 
ed before marriage by one she supposed her lover, 
has far more cause to congratulate herself than to 
complain, or sue for breach of promise. Such de- 
sertion, or any separation short of one produced by 



302 PROMISES AND OBLIGATIONS. 

some great calamity, is evident proof of the unfit- 
ness of the parties lor each other. 

Love demands the most absolute freedom from all 
restraint and bondage. It is a delicate flower, that 
withers in confinement. It is a free, joyous bird, 
that will not bear to be caged. The very fact of 
being engaged, bound, tied up, and under contract 
to love a person, may go far to bring coldness and 
indifference. We do not allude to marriage, which 
is a requisition of society, law, and religion, but of 
the promises, oaths, and engagements of courtship, 
which had better be dispensed with, and the parties 
left in entire freedom to study their own attractions. 

A gentleman should scorn to put any constraint 
upon the lady of his love ; the constraint of jeal- 
ousy or fear — of a promise or an obligation. He 
should say, " My blessed one, be free. Love me if 
you can ; be mine if you love me ; but I ask no 
promises, no vows. Give me what is mine. I 
would not have more." This is noble and loyal. 
And a lady should say, "To-day I love you, or I 
think I do. Let to-morrow tell its own story. I 
mast do ever what my heart tells me to do. As 
long as I love you," I am yours." IS T o honest man 
can ask for more. The true woman of civilization 
is not a Circassian slave, to be bought and sold and 
made property. 

It is the custom for men to choose ; to propose ; 
to take the initiative in all tender proceedings ; and 
women have been educated to dress well, look 
pretty, acquire nice little showy accomplishments, 
and with a demure and modest reserve wait to be 
chosen. But the progress of the age now assigns 
to woman a nobler position. She is recognized as 
the queen of society — the sovereign of the empire 



THE AMERICAN BELLE. 303 

of love. She lias now far more to say and do than 
this pretty role would give her. We no longer ac- 
cept the English, German, or French school of 
manners. We have come to have one of our own. 
The American belle of good society, in nine cases 
in ten, looks over the field, makes her choice from 
the circle of her admirers, gives the needed encour- 
agement, and decides for herself her life's destiny 
She may not absolutely make love to a man ; but 
she chooses none the less, from those who are 
attracted to her, who shall make love to her. She 
does not actually propose, perhaps — perhaps she 
does ; but it is she who gives her chosen one the 
encouragement and permission to propose. She 
may say, "ask pa f but she is quite as likely to tell 
you she has asked him herself, and that it is " all 
right." 

Getting married, please to observe, is not the sole 
object of society, however important. The less 
such a design is apparent, the more likely is it to 
succeed. There are thousands of men who have a 
horror of match-makers — of mammas who spread 
their nets, like unto so many spiders — of daughters 
whose sole object, and whose only thought, is to 
catch a husband, and who are ready to accept any 
good match that offers. 

If it could once be understood that there was 
some freedom in social intercourse, that men could 
be kind, polite, brotherly, to women, married or 
single, without either scandal or suspicion of mar- 
riage, the whole face of society would be changed. 
But now, if a gentleman looks at a lady, he is smit- 
ten ; if he spends an hour in her company, it is a 
courtship ; if he gives her his arm, they are engaged. 
Two persons are marked down as the exclusive pro- 



304 HONORABLE INTENTIONS. 

perty of each other, and shunned by all " the rest 
of mankind." The gentleman feels compromised ; 
the lady is in trouble ; and they are either driven 
to do what they never intended, and make a false 
and miserable, or at best an unwilling and indiffer- 
ent marriage, or submit to the social disgrace which 
awaits the deserted and the deserter. 

In such a case, a gentleman has but one thing to 
do ; it is to save the lady's feelings — to take upon 
himself the burthen of having been refused. A true 
gentleman will not hesitate one moment to sacrifice 
his vanity ; to accept, with a good grace, the con- 
dolence of his friends. 

On the other hand, no gentleman should permit 
a lady, whom he likes, but does not love, to mistake 
for one hour the nature and object of his intentions. 
Women may have some excuse for coquetry ; but 
a man has none. When flirtation is a game that 
two can play at, equally adepts, it is one thing ; 
but to allow an innocent girl to deceive herself, or, 
as is more commonly the case, to be deceived by 
the badinage of her companions, into the idea that 
you are her lover, and intend to propose marriage, 
is ungentlemanly. You may be innocent — you may 
not suspect the existence of such an idea — but few 
will give you credit for your verdancy, and we warn 
you against making such blunders, which may lead 
to one of two results. Either, having engaged the 
affections, and excited the hopes of the lady, you 
will feel compelled to marry her, or you will be dis- 
graced, possibly cowhided, or shot. 

These remarks refer to the present state of our 
society, which is in a transition from the old fashion, 
where no gentleman thought of addressing a lady 
with matrimonial intentions, without consulting her 



EFFECT OF DISAPPOINTMENT. 305 

parents, to the new age, in which women are be- 
ginning to assert their own personal rights in the 
matter. The misfortune now is, that they have free- 
dom enough to expose them to these blunders, and 
not enough of either freedom or intelligence to avoid 
injurious consequences. The old system and the 
new are mixed together, and it is not always easy 
to conform to both. 

Under the old system, everything about a court- 
ship was open, public, and formal. The lover, or 
his parents for him, asked permission to pay his ad- 
dresses to the lady. No privacy was allowed. 
They met always in the presence of a third person. 
There came then a formal betrothment ; the bans 
were published in the parish church, and marriage 
followed. This method was opposed to all romance, 
all the delights of a genuine passion, all freedom of 
the heart. False to nature, it was opposed to a 
true morality. 

A disappointment in love, the refusal of a lady, 
the desertion of a swain, is often followed on either 
side by a deplorable blunder. It is to accept has- 
tily the next offer ; to marry rashly, in a sort of 
revenge, as it seems sometimes, but more likely in 
search of consolation for a bitter disappointment. 
No doubt a forsaken or discarded lover has great 
need of consolation ; but it would be better to bear 
the pain with fortitude than to sell one's birthright 
for a mess of pottage — marrying in haste to repent 
at leisure. 

Should a lady marry against the consent of her 
parents? Serious question this. A young girl, 
under lawful age, may very well distrust her judg- 
ment, and can afford to wait. At* age, she is her 
own self-owner, and free to dispose of her person 
20 



306 MARRYING FOR MONEY. 

and her love. In the assertion of her own " indi 
vidual sovereignty" in this or any other case, she 
has no right to throw burthens upon others. If 
she have property in her own right, or if she has 
the means in her talents and labor to maintain her- 
self and children, she may be independent of any 
control other than that exercised over her judgment 
and appetites. 

Property is always a necessary and proper con- 
sideration. No man has the right to offer to marry 
a woman whom he has not the means to support. 
No woman should think of marriage until she sees 
the means or a clear prospect of sustenance for her- 
self and her children. It would be well, perhaps, 
if women were in some way assured of an inde- 
pendent subsistence in all cases. 

We do not counsel people to marry for money — 
we warn them against mistaking the emotions of 
gratified vanity ; the hope of independence, and the 
satisfaction of acquisitiveness, for the love or real 
union of hearts, of which the marriage ceremony 
should be only the external expression ; but when a 
true love exists, wealth on either side is but an 
accident, and not to be taken into account. The 
love that bestows itself, bestows freely all that be- 
longs to oneself. Still, the property a lady brings 
her husband should be mostly settled on herself and 
her children ; and the poor girl who marries a rich 
husband ought to be liberal, but not extravagant, 
in her expenditures. So long as the love lasts there 
is no fear of any reproaches about the poverty of 
either. If the love departs, they may as well quar- 
rel about that as anything else. 

The accepted lover is not to make himself too 
familiar with the family of his mistress, nor with 



DECEPTION IN COURTSHIP. 307 

herself. The story of the Yankee who asked his 
sweetheart to pay her share of the toll when they 
came to a bridge, because as like as not they would 
not be married after all, showed commendable pru- 
dence. 

It has been recommended that an engaged cou- 
ple should manage to live together in the same 
family a few months. Were this suggestion often 
practised upon, there might be some escapes ; but 
where an affair has gone so far as this, the parties 
feel bound to each other, and the match is seldom 
broken off. 

"When engaged to one lady, do not get. up 
flirtations with another," says one of our writers on 
this subject. It will make your affianced jealous 
and uncomfortable. Well, the honest way is to do 
before marriage just as you would afterward. 
Jealousy, quarrels, and separation had better come 
before marriage, for though you may have all the 
suffering of the former, you cannot have the harsh 
but effectual cure of the latter. 

Courtship is often, though unintentionally, a 
series of deceptions. It is a period of hope and 
happiness. Both persons show their best and most 
amiable qualities, not intentionally, but because they 
cannot help it. They are always dressed in their 
best — they look their best — they are on their best 
behavior. There is a mutual hallucination ; a haze 
of passion, which heightens every charm and con- 
ceals every defect. Our advice is probably wasted 
— but as marriage is rather an important step, it 
would be well to consider it with more prudence 
than is commonly in the power of the to-be-happy 
couple. 

As a gentleman would not be so rude as to carry 



308 JEALOUSY. 

a dish of strawberries and cream into a company, 
and eat them solus, while all mouths were watering 
for a taste of the dainties, so no person of taste 
parades the little deliciousnesses of a love affair 
before the world. It is not proper ; it is not dig' 
nified ; it is not benevolent. It is a piece of osten- 
tation, boasting, vain glory. It has even a deeper 
indelicacy, which every one feels when the question 
is about another, though he may forget it when it 
concerns himself. 

Jealousy is a manifestation of a poor opinion of 
one's self, and a distrust of its object. It is there- 
fore doubly dishonorable. As it is selfish, it is 
mean ; as it implies suspicion, it is insulting ; as it 
is perfectly useless and absurd, it is ridiculous. As 
jealousy ought to be, on all these accounts, a good 
ground of divorce after marriage, so it should be 
quite sufficient to break off any engagement before 
it. The lady who finds her lover jealous, owes it to 
herself to discard him ; a gentleman who finds his 
mistress tormenting herself and him during court- 
ship, may look forward to anything but " a good 
time coming." Marriage cures jealousy, if it pro- 
duces indifference — not otherwise. Jealousy is held 
to be a proof of love ; but it is more a proof of a 
selfish, miserly, clutching, suspicious disposition. If 
you wish to monopolize all the time, attention, 
thought, and conversation of any person, you are 
quite unfit for society, and should banish yourself to 

" Some bright little isle of your own, 
In a blue summer ocean, far off and alone." 

When an engagement is broken off, by the action 
of either party, or by mutual consent, there should 
be on both sides the most perfect delicacy of con- 



CHARACTER OF A COQUETTE. 309 

duct. All letters and presents, connected with such 
engagement, are to be returned ; and the confi- 
dences of each kept sacred. In case of any rup- 
ture, a gentlemanly magnanimity requires that the 
lady, if either, be considered the retracting. party. 

If a gentleman has made an engagement, it is 
not easy to withdraw. If he has proposed, and 
has been accepted, it is much the same as if he had 
challenged some one to fight, and the challenge was 
accepted. It remains for the challenged party to 
name time and weapons ; and in case of an affair of 
marriage, it remains with a lady to name the happy 
day and the parson. What can a gentleman do, 
but throw himself upon the generosity of the lady ? 
And if, for any reason, he wishes to withdraw, a 
lady who would not release him, would deserve to 
be deserted, ignominiously, at the very altar. She 
is a she Shylock, and the "pound of flesh" she 
claims, in virtue of her bond, is not " nearest the 
heart," but the heart itself. 

A coquette is an interesting social character, but 
not always a safe one to encounter. Love is a 
play ; or she plays at love, and like the children, 
"makes believe." 'She makes herself attractive, 
uses her powers of fascination, and pursues, or snares 
hearts, as sportsmen watch for game. She is false 
if you look for truth ; but quite true to her charac- 
ter of falsehood. It is a very sad, hard thing to be 
deceived by a coquette, but if you can play the 
game, you find it interesting. Some society belles 
boast the number of admirers, and the proposals 
they have had, as men talk of the game they have 
bagged in a season's shooting. The sport of the 
coquette is sometimes the most cruel. Neither flirt 
nor jilt, is a pleasant designation. 



310 COMMON GALLANTRIES. 

Flirtation, properly speaking, does not amount to 
actual coquetry. To be a coquette, one must begin 
with being a flirt, and end with being a jilt ; but a 
true flirtation ends short of an engagement. It 
comes only to a refusal. 

Much may be forgiven to gayety of disposition, 
love of admiration, and the excitement of fascina- 
tion ; but the woman who can deliberately lead a 
man on to love her, to center upon her his hopes of 
happiness, to propose marriage when she has had 
no real passion or serious intention, deserves the 
fate that probably awaits her. 

A young lady, especially on her first entrance 
into society, should be on her guard not to mistake 
the nature of the attentions she may receive. She 
will find men polite, assiduous, complimentary, ad- 
miring, and paying all those flatteries both of words 
and actions that are so agreeable, and to the inex- 
perienced, so seducing. Accept them all as .your 
right, quietly aud calmly, but never seem to give 
them more weight than in nine cases in ten they 
leave. They are agreeable attentions — the ordinary 
commerce of gallantry — what every gentleman is 
expected to" pay and every lady to receive. If not 
at first, a little experience will render you able to 
distinguish between the incense of the imagination 
and the earnest adoration of the heart of love, 
When this truth comes to you, receive it truly ; 
truthfully accept, or frankly and kindly reject. 

We have said little of station or social position. 
Women are commonly more ambitious than men. 
They look up in their affections. They ask an ob- 
ject of reverence. Men seek to cherish and pro- 
tect. For one woman who marries below her sta- 
tion as it is called, a hundred marry above. A 



BEHAVIOR DURING ENGAGEMENT. 311 

man raises his wife to his own position, or lowers 
her. The woman takes the rank of her husband. 

Persons in nearly the same sphere of life are best 
suited to each other, and they rarely go far out of 
it in forming matrimonial relations. 

Business of a permanent and legal character is 
often best transacted by correspondence. The pro- 
cess of wilting allows of deliberation, careful word- 
ing, and a clear statement of a proposition ; and 
gives time also for a considerate reply. Men of 
little courage are often fierce on paper. Persons 
who lack freedom of expression in speech, are often 
excellent writers. We need not advise, however, 
where every person will do what seems best in the 
method of paying his addresses. It is, however, to 
be remembered that the written word remains ; it 
will be kept ; read over and over, perhaps ; that it 
may remain and be seen by others, and that long 
after the feeling of the hour has passed away, the 
record will be in evidence. See further in chapter 
on Writing and Correspondence. 

The rules or principles of behavior which charac- 
terize acquaintances, friends, and married partners, 
must guide those who are "engaged." It is even 
more important to refrain from public demonstra- 
tions of partiality. It is not needful to compromise 
yourselves at all in the matter. If it is properly 
anybody's business to know that you love each 
other and propose to be married, let formal notice be 
served accordingly ; but to the great mass of the 
human race there need be no such advertisement. I 
do not mean that you should be under a perpetual 
restraint and fear of observation, but that you 
should simply be careful not to do yourselves what 
you would not quite approve if done by others. 



312 BEHAVIOR DURING ENGAGEMENT. 

Now, if a gentleman takes certain liberties with 
a young lady in company, he either does what any 
other person may do, or what he claims to do on 
account of their engagement to be married. It 
does not seem in good taste to set up such a claim, 
particularly as they "may not be married after all." 

A gentleman is careful of the one he loves ; he 
would guard her person, her feelings, her reputa- 
tion — everything precious to her. Let him not, 
then, by the imprudence and frivolity of his con* 
duct, expose her to the sneers and ridicule of vul- 
gar or malicious persons. There seems to us a nat- 
ural sanctity, a sacred mystery in the affairs of love, 
too much violated now by the customary forms of 
society — the gossip, the publishment, where that is 
required, the public marriage, the kissings and 
merry-makings, the public tour, bridal chambers, 
and newspaper paragraphs. 

It may be complained that the advice we have 
given on this interesting theme is of a very general 
character. As there is no settled form ; as, in the 
absence of direct proofs, as of clear written pro- 
posals of marriage, our courts have some trouble in 
deciding as to what kind of attentions are actiona- 
ble, we are left to generalities. Still we may give 
a few further hints, which may be useful. 

Before making the first demonstrations toward 
"particular attentions," ask yourself, if a gentle- 
man, whether you want a wife ; or, if a lady, before 
you encourage them, whether you are ready to 
accept a husband ; as it is generally understood that 
the only "honorable intentions" are matrimonial. 

You are not justified in commencing a courtship 
if not prepared to marry within three months. 
True, courtships have lasted seven years j but what 



OLD MAIDS AND OLD BACHELORS. 313 

a cruelty, and how out of character in a "fast" 
age like this ! 

Marriage is a condition that most women aspire 
to, and most men submit to. Old maids are pitied, 
old bachelors are blamed. The former would if 
they could ; the latter could if they would. These 
are facts with the regular discount of eight per 
cent., exceptional to all general rules. 

A man decides whether he can or will marry, 
and he puts it off until he gets tired of loneli- 
ness ; a woman does not usually question whether 
she can or will marry, — of course she will if she 
can; her only question is whether the gentleman 
who indicates his intention to propose is a suitable 
match. 

Is there then no friendship, no warm, and sincere, 
and devoted attachment between persons of oppo- 
site sexes ? We have heard and read of such things 
in distant times or countries. Here it can only 
subsist between relations within the prohibited de- 
grees, unless in extraordinary cases, and in great 
secresy. A busy, intermeddling despotism spoils 
everything with the poison of suspicion and scandal. 
This friendship — can it subsist between two young 
unmarried persons ? — between a married man and a 
girl, or a married woman and a gentleman, single, 
or the husband of another f Most certainly not. 
Our whole social system disallows it, and condemns 
it. We have scarcely more freedom than the Moors 
or Turks. They save trouble by not pretending to 
have any. 

There is freedom of flirtation • freedom of social 
intercourse ; much freedom as long as there is pros- 
pect or hope of "honorable intentions;" but let a 
gentleman once say, " Madam, I am free, and wish 



314 



RINGING HIM IN. 



to remain so. I will not marry. I admire you, 
however, and wish to be your friend, and have the 
pleasure of your society ;" and the frank answer, 
nine times in ten, would be, " ISTo, sir ; it is not to be 
thought of. My destiny is to be married, and you 
will stand in the way of some one who may wish 
to propose." When the parties are, one or both, 
already married, there are two obstacles — -jealousy 
and scandal. Marriage is therefore most justly de- 
clared the pivot of society in its established forms. 
Observe these facts, and in your intercourse with 
the other sex govern yourself accordingly. 





CHAPTER XVIIL 

MARRIAGE. 

1ST no social institution does 
the happiness or misery of the 
individual so much depend, as 
upon that of marriage ; it is, 
therefore, the most important, 
and deserving of the most se- 
rious consideration. Yet, to 
how many is it a jest, who 
find it, on trial, a very earnest reality ! 

We do not propose to discuss marriage, either as 
a political, or social, or even moral institution. It 
is said to be a necessity of the state, of society, and 
of morality ; all of which is disputed. If you have 
any fancy for the discussion, read what the moral- 
ists and political economists have written on the 
subject, from Paley to Greeley ; read also on the 
other side, from Milton to the last tract on Social- 
ism. But when you have read all, you will proba- 
bly do as all these have done — you will be obliged 
to accept of marriage as an existing social institu- 
tion, and comply with the laws and customs in such 
cases made and provided. There is no other way, 
except the very unpleasant way of social outlawry. 

" It is not good for man to be alone." Even the 
Shakers do not form separate communities of men- 



316 WHAT IS MAERIAGE? 

and women, and we are not cognizant of any civil- 
ized community, where the marriage tie is entirely 
disregarded. The Mormons even, though admit- 
ting a plurality of wives, but not of husbands, in- 
sist upon ,he most rigid fidelity to marriage vows. 

What is marriage? The civilized and Christian 
marriage, as defined by the law and the church, is 
the conjugal union of one man to one woman, for 
life. It is indissoluble monogamy ; the marriage of 
the single pair, until separated by death. This is 
the strict construction of the church, which looks 
upon it as a sacrament, or religious rite ; but the 
law, which considers it a civil contract, allows of 
other terminations, as adultery, or civil death ; and 
allows divorce, in some states, for desertion, drunk- 
enness, and various incompatibilities. 

In the usual religious ceremony of marriage, the 
parties, at the altar, or otherwise, solemnly, in the 
presence of God and witnesses, promise to take each 
other for husband and wife, to cleave unto each 
other only, "for better for worse, till death do us 
part ;" the husband to love, honor and cherish — the 
wife to love, honor and obey. In the civil contract 
there is also taken before the magistrate, or person 
authorized, the vows of mutual fidelity. In New 
York, where two persons live together as man and 
wife, they are presumed to be married. The law 
does not in this country recognize the legitimacy of 
any other sexual relation. 

Marriage is not permitted within certain degrees 
of consanguinity, as between uncle and niece ; but 
the marriage of cousins, though not always approved, 
is legal in this country — also of the sister of a de- 
ceased wife, though the latter is not allowed by the 
Church and laws of England. This prohibition of 



FREEDOM OP CHOICE. 3 IT 

the marriage of blood relations is believed to be 
founded upon good physiological reasons. It would 
appear that the marriages of cousins of the first and 
second degrees, are often prejudicial to the health 
of their offspring. 

Much has been said in the chapter on Love and 
Courtship, on the proper choice of companions for 
life. Physiological and Phrenological writers have 
insisted very strongly upon conditions of health, 
development, and congeniality of taste and temper- 
ament. In any decent degree of freedom, with in- 
telligence, and a wide range of choice, men and 
women will naturally and spontaneously select those 
who have health, physical and intellectual develop- 
ment, and the most pleasing qualities of mind and 
person. Each demands of the other, all manliness 
in men, all womanly attributes in women. 

Where there is freedom of choice, and too much 
weight is not given to artificial distinctions, as of 
rank and riches, there is little fear that either men 
or women will choose to marry persons of unsuita- 
ble age, of bad health, or poor development. Still 
there is to be used some care and wisdom, in the 
avoidance of hereditary diseases, particularly scrof- 
ulous affections and insanity, or strong idiosyncratic 
peculiarities. 

Men seldom marry women much older than them- 
selves. Ten years is the usual limit on this side ; 
and this, in many constitutions, is not a noticeable 
difference. We meet every day women of whom it 
is impossible to tell whether they are twenty-five or 
thirty-five ; nor can we in many cases distinguish 
between thirty and fifty. Mothers and daughters 
often look like two sisters. It is but just to say 
that the rare marriages, where the wife is the eldest 



318 MUTUAL FIDELITY. 

by several years, seem to have a more than aver- 
age chance of happiness. 

Wide differences of age are more frequent on the 
other side. It is not uncommon for -bachelors or 
widowers of fifty to marry girls thirty years younger. 
The general difference, however, is four or five 
years. The girl who marries an old man is not 
always mercenary. There are natural attractions 
between youth and maturity on both sides. The 
young girl who, at twenty, marries a man of fifty, 
calculates on being a widow at forty, but the 
chances are that she will add ten years to her hus- 
band's life, so as to diminish very much her pros- 
pects for a second husband. 

When two persons decide to enter into the mar- 
riage relation, they either do so in good faith, in- 
tending to perforin the promises they make of per- 
petual love and fidelity, or they merely comply with 
a social and legal form which is exacted of them. 
There ought to be a perfectly honest understanding 
in regard to this. There are, no doubt, many 
worthy people who do not believe in the necessity 
or even the morality of the marriage institution ; 
and they have a perfect right to their belief. It 
may be a part of their religion. Yet such persons 
conform outwardly, and enter into the marriage 
contract, reserving perhaps, the right to change, or, 
in case of change, the repudiation of the contract. 

But what we strenuously insist upon, in all such 
cases, is that the parties themselves mutually under- 
stand each other. A man may say, "My life! I 
love you. It seems to me that I shall always love 
you ; but I cannot promise it. I shall if I do ; if I 
do not, how can I ? I am willing to conform to 
the requisition of society, and marry ; but you must 



THE CEREMONY. 319 

understand that I do not promise impossibilities." 
It seems to us that a frank explanation of this kind 
might save much unhappiness. 

If a man continue to love his wife, and a woman 
her husband, and they love no other, there is no 
possible temptation to break their promises to each 
other. But if they have the great misfortune to 
cease to love, or come to love others, then marriage 
vows are fetters and chains. This is the puzzle of 
philanthropy. Individuals and states take different 
sides. If love is voluntary, then infidelity is a 
crime ; but if not, it is at most, when not expressed 
in any overt act, a misfortune, which we should 
pity, and if possible forgive. 

What is to be done in such cases ? There seem 
but two ways open. One is a private separation, 
keeping up the external form, but with a mutual 
relinquishment of all claim, and a mutual protection 
of the other's freedom. This is often done by per- 
sons of the highest consideration. The other alter- 
native is to remove into some state allowing free 
divorce, and procuring a legal separation. This is, 
in a certain sense, a sham ; but so was the cere- 
mony which failed of its intent in making and 
keeping them one. When a man and woman are 
no longer one, in the marriage of mutual love, the 
law may hold them to be one, but it cannot make 
them so. For it is now held by most advocates of 
marriage that it is essentially the union of two per- 
sons in mutual love ; so that when the love ends, 
the marriage is also at an end ; and some hold 
that this is a sufficient proof that it never really 
existed. 

But all these questions must be settled by you, 
Parties Concerned ! while we give our attention to 



820 WEDDING UNDERTAKES. 

the external ceremonies of this important relation, 
and we hope in your cases, most blessed estate. 

If you live in a large city like New York, and 
are rich enough to afford it, you need give yourself 
little trouble about the details of any ceremony. 
You have only to engage Mr. Brown, or some simi- 
lar undertaker of weddings, funerals, and other 
fashionable occasions, and everything will be ordered 
and directed in the most stj'lish manner, and at 
whatever cost you may require. All you have to 
say is, " Mr. Brown, my daughter is to be married 
Tuesday week — Grace church — two hundred dol- 
lars." " Mr. Brown, a little wedding party at my 
house on the 17th — about, say, two hundred peo- 
ple, and cost — well, six hundred dollars." It will be 
done ; and if your visiting list is short of the requi- 
site number, Mr. Brown will furnish you guests of 
the most unexceptionable style and deportment — 
dancing gentlemen, supper men, literary, artistic ; 
he has a list of all, and will arrange invitations. 

But if you live in a smaller town, where these 
higher demands of civilization are as yet unprovided 
for — where people are obliged to "get up" their own 
parties, you may need some hints. 

For a stylish wedding, the lady requires a bride- 
groom, two bridesmaids, two groomsmen, and a 
parson or magistrate, her relatives, and whatever 
friends of both parties they may choose to invite. 
For a formal wedding in the evening, a week's no- 
tice is requisite. The lady fixes the day. Her 
mother or nearest female relation invites the guests. 
The evening hour is eight o'clock ; but if the cere- 
mony is private, and the happy couple to start im- 
mediately and alone, the ceremony usually takes 
place in the morning at eleven or twelve o'clock. 



WEDDING DRESSES 32*1 

If there is an evening party, the refreshments 
must be as usual on such occasions, with the addi- 
tion of wedding cake, commonly a pound cake with 
rich frosting, and a fruit cake. The common re- 
freshments at parties are oysters, stewed and pickled, 
turkey and fowls, chicken and lobster salad, sand- 
wiches, ice cream and confectionery, fruits of vari- 
ous kinds and nuts, blanc mange and jellies, wines, 
liquors, punch ; or, if temperance is in order, lemon- 
ade, tea, coffee, or chocolate ; if it be the latter, 
let it be the best, and made thick and rich. 

The dress of the bride is of the purest white ; 
her head is commonly dressed with orange flowers, 
natural or artificial, and white roses. She wears 
few ornaments, and none but such as are given her 
for the occasion. A white lace veil is often worn 
on the head. White long gloves and white satin 
slippers complete the costume. 

The dress of the bridegroom is simply the full 
dress of a gentleman, of unusual richness and ele- 
gance. 

The bridesmaids are dressed also in white, but 
more simply than the bride. 

At the hour appointed for the ceremony, the 
second bridesmaid and groomsman, when there 
are two, enter the room ; then, first bridesmaid and 
groomsman ; and, lastly, the bride and bridegroom. 
They enter, the ladies taking the arms of the gen- 
tlemen, and take seats appointed ; so that the bride 
is at the right of the bridegroom, and each support- 
ed by their respective attendants. 

A chair is then placed for the clergyman or ma- 
gistrate in front of the happy pair. When he comes 
forward to perform the ceremony, the bridal party 
rises. The first bridesmaid, at the proper time, re- 
21 



322 THE CEREMONY. 

moves the glove from the left hand of the bride ; 
or what seems to us more proper, both bride and 
bridegroom have their gloves removed at the be- 
ginning of the ceremony. In joining hands they 
take each other's right hand, the bride and groom 
partially turning toward each other. The wedding 
ring, of plain fine gold, provided beforehand by the 
groom, is sometimes given to the clergyman, who 
presents it. It is placed upon the third finger of 
the left hand. 

When the ceremony is ended, and the twain are 
pronounced one flesh,~ the company present their 
congratulations — the clergyman first, then the mo- 
ther, the father of the bride, and the relations ; 
then the company, the groomsmen acting as masters 
of ceremonies, bringing forward and introducing the 
ladies, who wish the happy pair joy, happiness, 
prosperity ; but not exactly "many happy returns. ,; 

The bridegroom takes an early occasion to thank 
the clergyman, and to put in his hand at the same 
time, nicely enveloped, a piece of gold, according to 
his ability and generosity. The gentleman who 
dropped two half dollars into the minister's hands, 
as they were held out, in the prayer, was a little 
confused by the occasion. 

We hope and believe that the frolics which were 
once customary at weddings, have become obsolete 
— the deep and riotous drinking, from which the 
bridegroom had to be carried to bed ; the games 
and jests, often indecent ; the general kissing of the 
bride, a distasteful and even disgusting practice ; 
the ceremonies of bedding the couple, which may 
have been all well enough in the " good old times" 
we read about, but which are utterly inconsistent 
with our present ideas of refinement. 



WEDDING FROLICS. 823 

At the very best, there is enough in the marriage 
ceremony, and its attendant circumstances, that is 
repulsive to the pure instincts of a modest pair ; and 
we cannot help thinking that the less so strictly 
personal and private and delicate a matter is in- 
truded on public observation, the better. The time 
may come, when our present marriage customs may 
seem as barbarous as those of our ancestors do to us. 

The wedding tour, which follows the ceremony, 
the same day, or the day following, lasts a week or 
more. In England the newly married are expected 
to spend the entire honey-moon in seclusion ; either 
traveling incognito, or staying at some quiet coun- 
try place, or on the sea shore. Then they are " at 
home," to receive calls from their friends. 

In New York, the bridegroom, on the first New 
Year's after marriage, makes no calls himself, but 
stays at home and receives calls with his bride. 

In giving invitations, the parents of the bride in- 
vite their circle ; the bridegroom his own — such as 
he may choose to introduce to his wife, and consider 
friends of the family. 

When a dance follows the ceremony and congra- 
tulations, the bride dances, first, with the first 
groomsman, taking the head of the room and the 
quadrille, and the bridegroom with the first brides- 
maid ; afterwards as they please. The party breaks 
up early — certainly by twelve o'clock. 

Man and wife ! The preliminary romance is 
over — the courtship, the wedding, and the honey- 
moon. We commence house-keeping ; we enter 
upon the cares and duties of a family. We shall 
not attempt to decide the much-mooted question, 
whether anticipation is superior to realization. It 
depends on circumstances, as how much we antici- 



324 AFTER MARRIAGE. 

pate, and how much we realize. If courtship haa 
been a scene of deception and hallucination, mar- 
riage brings out the reality. Shams are unmasked, 
humbugs exposed, unless they are purely ideal and 
sentimental, and then they may continue indefinitely. 
But a bad figure or a crooked temper, however 
adroitly concealed before marriage, is pretty sure to 
be found out not very long after. But there is no 
help. The sage proverb, " What can't be cured 
must be endured," was invented for the married. 
When two cats are tied up together in a bag, it is 
for their mutual interest to be quiet. The absolute 
necessity of making the best of a bad bargain, 
makes us submit ; and we should do so with a good 
grace, and without complaint or grumbling. 

The way to treat a wife is to pay her. all the 
respect you thought due her before marriage. 
Great love may dispense with forms ; but the less 
there is of real cordiality, the more need of that 
which best fills its place, and makes up for the want 
of it. 

Happy couples, the great majority, who find the 
realization of marriage to surpass all the happiest 
anticipations of courtship, do not need such advice. 
But there may be a few, here and there, not so for- 
tunate. Suppose the case where both are disap- 
pointed, and find out, when it is too late, that they 
do not love each other, must they therefore be 
ill-bred, cruel, inhuman ? Is not this suffering bad 
enough, without the aggravation of useless repin- 
ings or harsh treatment ? May not a true, good 
man pity his wife in the midst of his own unhappi- 
ness, and by kindness and sympathy soothe her re- 
grets, and give her his friendship and respect, as 
some compensation for the lack of love ? And may 



MAKIXG THE BEST OF IT. 325 

not the wife, legally if not truly such, be a kind, 
tender, and considerate friend of the husband, a 
consoling angel in their mutual calamity ; — for the 
lack of love, which is the soul of marriage, is a 
great misfortune — it is a body without a soul. 
There are those who declare that an unloving mar- 
riage is none ; that the parties are divorced in fact, 
and should be so in law ; but society and the laws 
of our country are of a different opinion. 

The rights of the husband over the wife, as de- 
fined by our laws, are of the most absolute charac- 
ter known to civilization. Held to be one flesh in 
the religious rite, the being of the wife, or her legal 
existence, is merged in that of her husband. Ex- 
cept where the Woman's Rights movement has 
affected recent legislation, the wife has no property, 
can make no contract or will, collect no wages, nor 
support herself, in any legal way, independent of 
her husband. £so debt can be collected of her, for 
she has no separate power to contract one, and her 
husband is bound to pay her debts, assuming even 
those she owed at marriage. Her property, unless 
settled by some entail or trusteeship, is his, and can 
be spent by him or taken for his debts. It is dim- 
cult to imagine a more complete surrender of per- 
sonal rights. The wife must follow her husband, 
or stay at his bidding ; live where he provides a 
home, with no right to seek another. Her very 
clothing is the property of the husband. He has 
supreme power over the children, and can take them 
from her at his option. 

As these laws are based upon both the religious 
and civil idea of marriage — the two being but one, 
and the husband the head of the wife, who promises 
to obey her husband, and is so commanded in the 



826 CONJUGAL RIGHTS. 

scriptures, it is hard to say what are the rights of 
the wife. Her duties, however, are sufficiently 
plain. We open the first book we can lay our 
hands on, and copy a few paragraphs : 

" 1. Always receive your husband with smiles — 
leaving nothing undone to render home agreeable, 
and gratefully reciprocate his kindness and attention. 

" 2. Study to gratify his inclinations, in regard 
to food and cookery ; in the management of the 
family ; in your dress, manners, and deportment. 

" 3. Never attempt to rule, or appear to rule 
your husband. Such conduct degrades husbands — 
and wives always partake largely in the degradation 
of their husbands. 

"4. In everything reasonable comply with his 
wishes with cheerfulness — and even, as far as possi- 
ble, anticipate them. 

" 5. Avoid all altercations or arguments leading 
to ill-humor — and more especially before company. 
Few things are more disgusting than the alterca- 
tions of the married, when in the company of friends 
or strangers. 

" 6. Never attempt to interfere in his business 
unless he ask your advice or counsel ; and never 
attempt to control him in the management of it." 

There are a dozen more, all founded upon the 
same idea ; but if a lady understands that her duties 
are obedience, complaisance, an entire surrender of 
her will to that of her husband, and attention to 
his happiness as the first consideration, she has the 
spirit of them all. 

Do not pout, dear young lady ; we simply per- 
form our duty in laying before you the rules of be- 



DUTY OF WIVES. 327 

havior, in married life, required of you by both the 
religion and laws of our country ; where individual 
liberty, and the independent pursuit of happiness 
are surrendered at the marriage altar. 

Husbands have also their duties. They are to be 
kind, loving husbands ; good providers ; watchful 
guardians of the happiness of those who are entrust- 
ed to them. The husband ought never to mortify 
his wife, by rebukes before company ; and though 
it is her duty to obey him, and he may use any rea- 
sonable amount of force, it is doubtful whether he 
would now be justified in beating her, as not long 
since in England, with a stick not larger than his 
thumb ! 

Having given these maxims, as in duty bound ; 
we may perhaps be permitted to express a private 
opinion of our own, which is that every woman, 
whatever her legal position may be, is entitled to 
be treated with delicacy, justice, generosity, and 
gallantry ; that she is Queen of Society, placed at 
the right hand of man, to be honored and rever- 
enced, as but very little lower than the angels, and 
next them in the scale of being ; and that the hus- 
band should treat his wife with the same chivalrous 
courtesy, delicacy, and regard for her wishes and 
happiness, as in the dawning romance of their early 
love. 

And the wife should treat her husband always as 
such a husband deserves to be treated. 

We beg leave to add a few maxims, which may 
be taken either in fun or in earnest, and in either 
case for just what they are worth : 

A husband who is a tyrant is detestable ; one 
who is a slave is ridiculous. The " golden mean" 
seems to be one who treats his wife — exactly right 



328 MAXIMS ON MARRIAGE. 

In the division of the duties of life, assist, but 
do not intermeddle with each other. 

A wife vows fidelity and obedience ; but she does 
not bargain to become a mere domestic drudge, and 
the secluded slave of a lord and master. Life has 
for her its rights, its duties, and its enjoyments. 

Jealousy is universally ridiculed, yet it every lit- 
tle while is the cause of some suicide or murder, 
and is the secret torment of thousands all around 
us. It is a prevalent disease, for which our moral 
doctors ought long since to have found a remedy. 

Similarity of disposition is more likely to mar 
than make connubial bliss. The best accords are of 
well matched opposites. The attraction of tall for 
short, lean for fat, and dark for fair is obvious 
everywhere ; and the same attraction exists for 
moral contrasts. The saying, "A reformed rake 
makes the best husband," probably originated with 
the most virtuous and exemplary of ladies. 

What is the fact respecting this maxim ? It is 
that a man, having " sown his wild oats," no longer 
has them to sow. His curiosity being satisfied, or 
his appetites palled, he is more likely to submit to 
social restraints. 

" Marriage is like a silk purse — most agreeable 
when there is plenty of money in it ;" — not that the 
money is really any motive to or part of the mar- 
riage, but because money is the representative and 
means of ease, comfort, independence, and enjoy- 
ment. 

Marriage is a trap — easy to get in, and hard to 
get out ; but as you wish to be in, and have no 
occasion to get out, there is no objection to the 
trap. 

Free divorce, or the abolition of all law on the 



MAXIMS ON MARRIAGE. 



329 



subject, could not separate those who are joined to 
each other by a mutual attraction. The laws are 
to hold together those who would prefer to be 
apart — for the good of society. 

Marriage is said to be like " a rose tree in full 
bearing" — the flowers drop off, then the leaves, 
leaving only the thorns. But a true marriage is 
more like the apple tree, where the odorous and 
beautiful flower is succeeded by the fruit, still more 
odorous and beautiful. 

The model husband gives to his wife her rights 
as a human being ; her privileges as a woman ; the 
respect and deference due to a lady ; the devotion 
of a lover to his mistress ; and the protecting care 
of the father of a family. 

The model wife is what you are, have been, or 
hope to be, fair reader ; or what you have, have 
had, or deserve to have, reader not so fair. 





CHAPTER XIX. 

WRITING AND CORRESPONDENCE. 

robably no chapter of this book will 
be more interesting or more useful to 
a large portion of its readers, thau 
the one treating of this noble and 
most useful mode of human expres- 
sion. 

It is the means by which I, the au- 
thor of this treatise, bring myself into an intimate 
relation with the million who are to be its readers, 
with the intermediate agencies of the arts of print- 
ing, engraving, and other appliances for the diffu- 
sion of useful and entertaining knowledge. By 
this' means, instead of conversing with a single 
friend, or giving my thoughts to a group at a party, 
or an audience at a lecture, I sit alone in my room 
and speak to the dwellers of a continent, knowing 
that my words will be read on the banks of the 
Connecticut and the Mississippi, on the Atlantic 
and Pacific, on Puget's Sound and the Bay of 
Fundy. 

But, leaving the great art of printing, which 
has changed the whole relations of society, given 
wings to progress,- and upset all calculations based 
upon the lessons of history, writing, the prior art, 
of which printing is the miraculous extension, is 



WRITING MATERIALS. 331 

one of the sublimities of human achievement. It 
gives me the power of communicating thought and 
love to the most distant and most dear. It records 
experience, remedies forgetfulness, adds deliberation 
to eloquence, and preserves the highest efforts of 
genius ; forever adding to the stores of intellectual 
wealth. It gives us expression, permanent and 
transmissable. Whatever the future may have in 
store for us, writing is now the human art which, 
next to language, has most of use and happiness. 

To write well should be the ambition and the 
effort of every one who writes at all. We mean 
both in manner and matter. To speak well is not 
only to speak sensibly and with the proper feeling, 
but with a pleasant voice, a clear articulation, and 
a pure, good method. So to write. The clear and 
beautiful thought demands a corresponding chiro- 
graphy ; and, to a certain extent, this is a thing to 
be acquired. 

The first thing necessary is to have always at 
hand the proper materials. There is no surer indi- 
cation of taste and breeding than the wilting ma- 
terials in habitual use. To write a letter on a sheet 
or part of a sheet of coarse paper, to fold it irregu- 
larly, put it in a thin brown envelope, and seal with 
a red wafer, these are not indications of a gentle- 
man, certainly not of a lady. 

The first point is to have paper suitable for its 
uses. I write this book on a ream of large pale 
blue foolscap, firm and smooth. The color is less 
trying to the eyes than a pure white, which is, how- 
ever, to be preferred for many uses. For my let- 
ters I choose a white, unruled post, or letter paper ; 
Bath post, which is a size less ; commercial note, 
for brief business letters, which is half the size of 



332 PAPER AND ENVELOPES. 

post ; and for billets still smaller and finer. I pre- 
fer paper unruled, not liking the constraint of formal 
lines ; but those who cannot write straight and 
with a reasonable degree of uniformity, should use 
either ruled paper or lines to lay under ; but the 
former seems most honest. 

Ladies choose delicate tints of paper ; pale blue, 
light straw color, rose, or violet ; some also perfume 
their paper, by dropping in the writing desk a few 
drops of any favorite scent. Some have all their 
paper stamped or embossed with their initials, or 
some favorite device. 

The envelope should correspond to the paper, in 
size and quality. For general correspondence, the 
letter and note envelopes furnished by the Post 
Office department are sufficient ; or you may have 
a more elegant style, a little smaller, and enclosed 
in these. Blue paper and envelopes seem cold, and 
are unpleasant to some persons. The paper in 
fashion, at this time, is a heavy "cream-laid" or 
variegated paper, hot pressed ; but it is stiff and 
unpleasant, and really less beautiful than that which 
is fine and plain. Gilt-edged paper is little used. 
The fancy, embossed, or scolloped paper and en- 
velopes, are reserved for valentines, and discarded, 
for all occasions, by people of taste. 

If you have much writing to do, supply yourself 
with a good stock. Buy paper by the ream, or half 
ream packages, and envelopes by the hundred, or 
box of five hundred. The adhesive envelopes are 
convenient ; but they involve the probability of a 
doubtful propriety. The objection to a wafer is 
that it is bad manners to send a person your saliva, 
it being the next thing to spitting in his face, which 
is a deadly insult. 



PENS AND INK. 633 

Even with the gum, when any formality is requi- 
site, you require sealing wax, and a proper seal. 
Here is an opportunity for the display of an exqui- 
site taste. A gentleman's ordinary wax is bright 
red — the best that is made. Ladies use blue, yel- 
low, and amber with sparks of gold — many pretty 
varieties. Learn to make a clear, clean seal, by 
properly melting your wax, and not smoking it ; by 
letting it fall in the right place and quantity, and 
firmly impressing your seal, so as in more senses 
than one to make a good impression. 

Persons in mourning use black wax, as well as 
black edged paper. 

Let your ink be a good, clear, jet black, or one 
that will become so by exposure. The use of poor 
pale ink is one of the most annoying of the little 
miseries of life. 

The pen. I have never been able to write with 
a gold or steel pen for two pages. They have a 
hard, scratching feel, and soon cramp my fingers. 
After a thousand trials, I return each time to the 
quill, of which I buy the best to be had ; such as 
cost from half a dollar to a dollar a dozen. This, 
however, is no rule, and most persons can use steel 
or gold, which, the latter particularly, are a saving 
of time and trouble, with the advantage of greater 
uniformity of writing. 

When all is prepared, can you write a good hand ? 
Can you form your letters with clearness, symmetry, 
and uniformity ? Can you write rapidly, and at the 
same time legibly? Are your lines straight and 
even ? Do you commence your paragraphs with a 
proper indention, like those of a printed book ? Do 
you leave suitable margins, on each side of your 
page, but particularly at the left hand? Have 



334 CAN YOU SPELL? 

your lines and curves, your letters and words more- 
over, certain elements of grace and elegance, as 
well as neatness ? Do you mind your stops, or un- 
derstand the art of punctuation ; whicii is as neces- 
sary to know, as that of reading or spelling ? Or, 
to go a little back of this, 

Can you spell ? Are you quite clear as to the 
way in which letters form words, words sentences, 
and sentences paragraphs ? If you have any doubt 
on this point, take the first child's primer or spelling 
book you can find ; put it in your pocket, carry it 
with you everywhere, in the field or shop, on jour- 
neys, and even to oed. From alphabet and a-b, 
ab, master every lesson. Then take some small 
English grammar, and do the same by that, sen- 
tence by sentence, and page by page, through 
orthography, etymology, syntax, and prosody ; and 
then you will not write as an excellent young lady 
did, not long since, to our publishers, thus — 

greenland (no state) feb. 1864. 
rmessurs leland Cla and co, i write this For you to 
male me a Kopy of the dim and mclos ten sens for that 
perpis. 

Now as there are twenty-three Greenlands in 
this great country, the strong probability is that 
this worthy but somewhat illiterate young lady did 
not get her paper without writing again for that 
"perpis." 

Having done justice to Noah Webster and Lind- 
ley Murray, or whatever standards you may prefer 
in the acquisition of the literature of your native 
tongue — supposing, I mean, that by some misfor- 
tune all this has not been acquired when the mem- 



PUNCTUATION AND STYLE. 335 

ory is active, you may as well introduce yourself to 
the excellent Dr. Blair, or some other good writer on 
rhetoric. 

Or, what may be better, read books and papers 
with care. Observe how the words are spelled, the 
sentences formed, the phrases rounded into a musi- 
cal rhythm, and how the " , ; : ? ! ( ) — ." are 
used to make all meanings clear. If you cannot 
go back to Greek and Latin, or French and Ger- 
man, for the derivation of words, so as to distin- 
guish their nicest shades of meaning, get a copy of 
" Crabbe's Synonyms," or any similar work, showing 
the minutest differences in the meanings of words, 
which are liable to be used indiscriminately to ex- 
press the same idea, for there is scarcely such a 
thing as an absolute identity in the meaning of 
words, except in the names of things. 

Writing is a mechanical art, like any handicraft. 
You learn it as you do to spin a top, or catch a 
ball, to knit or to sew. It is a matter first of idea 
as to the proper forms, and then of nervous and 
muscular execution, performed by the arm, fore 
.arm, and fingers ; and a good writer becomes such 
from natural aptitude or good training, or both 
combined ; where there is, moreover, ideality, imi- 
tation, and some perseverance, it is very easy to be- 
come a good writer. But with a moderate endow- 
ment of all other qualities, perseverance alone will 
make a clear and legible, if not a rapid and grace- 
ful writer. Every person with the proper organs 
learns to walk and talk, though few comparatively 
walk or talk well. But the gymnasium, drill ser- 
geant, and dancing master, teach people to walk ; 
practice in elocution will learn people to talk ; and 
the careful, determined, and persevering exercise of 



336 THE HAND-WRITING. 

the proper muscles will enable — perhaps we may 
say — every one to write with ease, with rapidity, 
and with regularity, if not with real beauty. 

Even with much training there will remain an 
individuality of character in the hand-writing of 
most persons. Some have professed to tell this 
character by an examination of the manuscript ; 
but there is a deeper impression than this, and per- 
haps corresponding to it. It is the recently ascer- 
tained but now well known fact, that a written 
letter, or even a word, placed in a closely sealed 
envelope, in the hand, or upon the forehead, of cer- 
tain persons, in some way becomes the medium of 
an impression of the character, the personal appear- 
ance, and other facts respecting the writer, as age, 
sex, business, &c. 

This fact, now ascertained and verified beyond 
doubt by thousands of experiments, throws new 
light on many facts connected with epistolary cor- 
respondence. This is why we hold some letters in 
our hands, or lay them on our hearts, and throw 
others from us ; why they give us pain or pleasure, 
aside from the meaning of the written words ; why 
hypocrisy has less power to deceive than it is 
thought to have. This power of reading the soul, 
by the mere impression of a manuscript, belongs to 
a class of instinctive phenomena, vaguely called in- 
tuitive, but of the actual nature of which, we are 
much in the dark, as we mostly are respecting other 
facts of clairvoyance, prevision, and what are termed 
spiritual manifestations. 

Having suitable paper, and other materials ; a 
sand-box or blotting paper ; good pens, and more 
than one, that you may not be hindered by its fail- 
ure ; good ink, black or blue, ink that can be read 



A CAPITAL RULE. 837 

— but not red ink, which is only fit for ruling led- 
gers — sit in an easy position, at a desk or table, 
neither too high nor too low, and begin. But avoid 
all gaucheries of attitude. The most graceful posi- 
tion, in this as in everything, is the most suitable. 

In regard to conversation, it is a capital rule, 
though seldom followed, not to speak, unless you 
have something to say. Do what demands the doing; 
is a great rule of life. Let supply be governed by 
demand. Speak what asks to be said ; write what 
wishes to be written. 

Unless writing is your 
business, and you get your 
bread by it and support your 
family. In that hard case, 
cudgel your brains and be- 
gin ; but it is always a hard 
life to do what is done with 
difficulty ; though to write, 
con amore, as well as cur- 
rente calamo, has the satis- 
faction and pleasure of all our acts of spontaneity, 
as all acts ought to be. 

And now, your sheet before you, dip your pen 
daintily, so as not to carry a blot. Leave a space 
of from.one-quarter to one-third of the sheet at the 
top for your upper margin. If a letter of business, 
write the date clearly, post office, the county, if 
need be, and always the state, or its initials, at the 
upper right hand, with the month, day and year. 
If you write a note to a friend near you, you need 
only write the day of the week. In friendly and 
confidential notes also, and in very formal ones, the 
date is put at the bottom on the left hand. 

In a business letter, you begin with the name of 
22 




338 BUSINESS LETTERS. 

the party addressed. Leaving a proper margin, 
and then room for indention, you write the name 
and title in fall, with the proper designation under, 
and still farther indented. Then, in a few clear, 
brief, explicit sentences, state the business. Make 
as many paragraphs as there are different matters, 
and close with some suitable form, such as, " Your 
humble servant," " Yours truly," " Your friend f or 
with still more formal and ceremonious conclusions. 
A letter writer to copy from, is the property of 
ambitious stable boys, and literary chamber-maids ; 
but a few of the usual forms of notes and letters, 
may be useful to most of our readers. Thus, a 
lady, about to give a party, takes a sheet of fine 
note paper, and commencing near the middle of the 
page, writes — 

Mrs. Jones requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Smith's 
company, on Thursday evening, Yith inst., at seven o'clock. 
No. 42 Blossom St., Dec. 5. 

If others of the family are to be invited, notes 
must be sent to them separately. This is put in an 
envelope, sealed, and sent, either by post or a mes- 
senger. The answer will be either an acceptance 
or a regret. Thus : , 

Mr. and Mrs. Smith accept, with pleasure, Mrs. Jones's 
invitation for Thursday evening, 17th inst. 
No. 10 Myrtle Avenue, Dec. 5. 

Or thus : 

Mr. and Mrs. Smith regret that it will not be in their 
power to accept Mrs. Jones's kind invitation on Thursday evening. 
No. 10 Myrtle Avenue, Dec. 5. 



INVITATIONS. 339 

All notes of ceremony, as invitations, regrets, 
acceptances, compliments, congratulations, condo- 
lences, &c, are written in the third person ; but 
where these are not formal, this style is not requi- 
site. But there must be no mixing of the cases, 
like this : 

Mrs. Willis begs leave to present her compliments to Mrs. 
Waters, and will you come over to our house this afternoon 
and take tea with me. Please bring Charles, for I wish to 
see him very much. Affectionately yours, 

Sally Willis. 

Here are two capital errors at least. The style 
is changed from the formal third person to the 
first, and signed at the end by the lady who had 
already put her name at the beginning. It is cus- 
tomary, in notes in the formal style, to repeat the 
names as often as there is occasion, which must be 
in every full sentence. 

A letter of introduction, though formal in its 
purpose, is not so in its style. Thus — 



Jonesville, K Y. June 20, 1864. 
My Dear Sir : 

This will introduce to your acquaintance my friend, Mr. 
Selwyn, of Jonesville, a gentleman for whom 1 have a high estima- 
tion. Any attention you may have it in your power to show him 
during his visit to Boston, will be gratefully reciprocated by 

Tour friend, M. Stanley. 

Mr. Charles W. Rogers. 



340 LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. 

This is to be put in an envelope, and directed 
thus : 



MR. CHARLES W. ROGERS, 
169 TteiRD Street, 

Cincinnati, 0. 



Directed so as to leave margins as above, and so as 
to leave the flap of the envelope at the top. A 
letter of introduction is never sealed, for obvious 
reasons of delicacy. The gentleman may deliver it, 
or more properly in most cases, when for a gentle- 
man, enclose it in a sealed envelope, with his card 
containing his address (hotel and room), and send 
it to its destination. 

But it is best not to use this form too freely, as it 
is quite possible that you may give introductions of 
a very unwholesome character. Your neighbor, 
Mr. Tompkins, is a very good neighbor, and highly 
respectable specimen of the solid citizen of the 
rural districts. You know Mr. Jones, of Fifth 
avenue in New York ; he has been at your house, 
partaken of your hospitality, praised your place, 
and invited you to come and see him in town. But 
it does not follow, when Mr. Tompkins walks into 
his parlor some morning and presents your letter of 
introduction, requesting Mr. Jones to show him the 
Crystal Palace and Barnum's Museum, that it will 
be altogether agreeable. 



AN- UNWELCOME GUEST. 



S41 




THE UNWELCOME GUEST. 



An invitation to dinner or a party requires an an- 
swer. To any other formal note to which you re- 
quire one, you can add at the end, " an answer is 
requested ;" or write the R. S. Y. P., upon the en- 
velope, at the lower left hand corner. These let- 
ters stand for " Repondez, sHl votis plait" — answer, 
if you please. 

Models of friendly and amatory letters will be 
found scattered through the pages of English and 
French literature, which, particularly the latter, 
may be studied with advantage. We wish to give 



342 LETTERS 0? BUSINESS. 

instructions relating to form and manner rather than 
matter. Letters of business are very important, 
and should be written with care, and where it may- 
be of consequence, copies should always be taken. 
Merchants have a peculiar kind of ink, and copying 
presses for that purpose. Brevity, as far as is con- 
sistent with clearness, is essential. Here is a form 
which we beg leave to recommend for general adop- 
tion . 

Madison, Dane Co., Wisconsin, 
May 1, 1864. 
R. W. Carroll & Co.: 
Gentlemen, 
Enclosed, find nine dollars, ($9), for which please mail 

2 Incidents of the War, $2.00 

' 2 Minnesota Massacre, 3.00 

2 Vallandigham Trial, 4.00 

$9.00 
Address as above, to your friend, 

Benjamin Bountiful. 

This is all clear and unmistakeable, and that most 
estimable gentleman has only to carefully enclose 
his money, have it registered if thought needful, 
put on a stamp, and await the result, in which he 
is not likely to be disappointed. 

If several points, of business or otherwise, are to 
be noticed in a letter, it is well to make a note of 
them beforehand on a separate piece of paper, and 
then, beginning with the most or least important, as 
you please, state them clearly, when you can finish 
with any comments that are needful. 

In answering a letter, of any business or. formal 
character, or where it may be needful to mention 
the date and subject of the letter answered : 



TITLES. 343 

Cincinnati, 0., April 1, 1864. 

Sir- 

I have the honor to acknowledge your favor of the 
yOth ult., asking for information respecting our city. 

It is a compact, well-built city, of nearly two hundred 
thousand inhabitants, engaged chiefly in commerce and 
manufactures. Our growth has been rapid, but our 
prosperity appears to have a solid foundation. The 
surrounding country is of great fertility, the trade in 
staples very large, and our industry well established. 
Cincinnnati will be, for many years, the geographical 
center of the thickly peopled portion of our country, and 
in its style of building, its warehouses, hotels, churches, 
schools, and other public institutions, it has the elements 
of a great metropolis. 

Should you decide to establish yourself here, I think 
you will not be disappointed. Yours truly, 

John Morton. 
Mr. Charles Lockwood, 
New York. 

It will be noticed that I have not used the title 
Esquire, which has become so universal as to lose 
all distinction. It is sometimes inconvenient. On 
the continent of Europe, our American fashion of 
esquiring everybody is not understood, and letters 
directed to John Smith, Esq., are kept forikfr. Esq, 
while poor Smith curses the foreign post, and fails 
to receive his remittances. Mr. seems to us the 
preferable designation ; and in France the initial 
M., Monsieur, is used for every one, even to the 
highest rank of the nobility, as M. le Prince. 

It is well to give the title Honorable to those 
who are entitled to it — to members of Congress, 
and Judges ; but conferring it on the members of 
State legislatures, diffuses the honor rather widely ; 
since we sometimes see, in the announcement of a 
political meeting, a string of fifty honorables, many 
of whom a gentleman would be sorry to be obliged 



344 MILITARY TITLES. 

to address in any way. When a Mike Walsh goes 
to Congress, and a Sickles is appointed Secretary 
of Legation, political titles become of very small 
account. 

Military titles, whatever, their origin, when worn 
as a matter of pride, may be used in addressing 
their wearers. Our militia titles are much ridi- 
culed ; but when a man devotes his time and ener- 
gy for twenty years, to the military education of a 
brave, chivalrous and truly efficient citizen soldiery, 
like General Sanford, or General Morris, they are 
as much entitled to all the honors of Generalship as 
Lieutenant-General Scott himself. But there are 
sections of the country where every man entitled to 
any social recognition expects to be addressed as 
Major, at least, if not Colonel ; which latter is now 
the favorite title of the more enterprising class of 
adventurers. Captain belongs to every man who 
ever commanded a canal boat, or navigated a mud 
scow. 

The President of the United States, and Gover- 
nors of States, are addressed as "Your Excellency," 
or designated as " His Excellency." A letter to 
the President, however, is best superscribed — 

Abraham Lincoln, 
President of the United States, 

Washington, D. C. 

And, at the beginning of the letter, the best ad- 
dress is, simply, 

Sir : 
As in addressing the Emperor of the French, it 
would be Sire ! In formal letters, not of business, 



NOTE OF HAND. 345 

where the name is not written at the left hand 
commencement, it is written at the left hand at the 
end, and room should always be left for that pur- 
pose. If the person addressed is one of various 
titles, they may be used with courtesy, or abbrevi- 
ated by a comprehensive &c. Thus, at the bottom, 
left hand of a letter, you write — 

Rev. William Chase, D.D., 
&c. &c. 

New York City. 

There are forms of business writing which all 
persons may have occasion to use ; but some of 
which we would respectfully advise the reader to 
have as little to do with as possible. Here, for ex- 
ample, is the note of hand ; a very pretty document 
to write, and convenient often to issue, if that was 
the last of it ; if you were a bird, and could issue 
as many notes as you pleased without being troubled 
with any falling dew. But as civilization is married 
to finance, and men get into matrimony and debt ; 
here is the form in question. 

$526.37 New York, March 15, 1864. 

Ninety days after date, we promise to pay to the order 
of Stringer & Townsend, five hundred and twenty six 37.100 
dollars, value received. Clay & Co. 

This requires the endorsement of the respectable 
publishing firm of S. & T., the signature of the 
firm written across the back, about one-third down, 
when it is to be hoped that it would be cheerfully 
discounted, at any bank in this vicinity. 



346 BILLS. 

A draft is in the form of a letter : 

$600 New York, March 15, 1864. 

Sir: 

At ten days' sight, please pay to the order of De 
Witt and Davenport, six hundred dollars, and charge to 
acc't of Your obedient servants, 

Clay & Co. 
To R. W. Carroll, Bookseller, 

Cincinnati, 0. 

De Witt & Davenport endorse this order, and 
. hand it to a broker or express agent for collection, 
and it is paid in thirteen days after acceptance by 
Mr. Carroll — ten days' sight and three days' grace. 
Almost every person has occasion to make out 
bills for articles sold, or service rendered. All such 
work should be done in a clear and orderly manner. 
It is presumed that a record is made of every trans- 
action, involving credit or delay, in a book of 
accounts ; and the entry may be nearly in the same 
form. The bill runs thus : 

New York, May 10, 1864. 
Mr. James Foster, 

Bo't of Clay <fc Co., ' 
24 stereotype plates for labels, .... $20.00 
5 reams of printed labels, at $8, . . . 40.00 



$60.00 
Rec'd pay't by dft. on Broadway Bank. 

Clay & Co. 

A receipt is a simple affair, which a business or 
professional man is generally happy to give ; and 
which it is well for every person doing business to 
take and keep, carefully filed away, with a plain 
endorsement, where it can be turned to at a mo- 
ment's notice. It is usually written — 



A FEW SUGGESTIONS. 341 

$25.00 New Yoke, May 10, 1864. 

Received of P. T. Barnum, Esq., twenty-five dollars, 
in full for notices of the Bearded Lady, to this date. 

Penny A. Liner. 

A receipt may be given for so much " on ac- 
count," or "in full of all accounts," or where it is 
intended to cover everything, " in full of all de- 
mands," meaning in full payment or settlement of 
all demands or claims whatever. 

In a country of newspapers, where everybody 
reads them, and almost everybody has occasion, or 
thinks he has, to write to the editor or for the paper, 
a few suggestions may well be given. 

If you are in doubt as to the necessity of writing, 
do not write at all. 

. If you do write some suggestion to the editor, 
take a good pen, good paper, and particularly good 
ink ; and then in the fewest possible words, and in 
the clearest possible manner, write what you have 
to say, without apology at the beginning, or flat- 
tery at the end. 

If you write, expecting to have your communica- 
tion printed, make it as plain, clear, and pointed 
as possible. Write short sentences and brief para- 
graphs. When you have written just what you 
wish to say, stop. Go over the manuscript, and if 
one phrase of flummery has crept in, strike it out j 
if a better word or an apt phrase occurs to you, 
insert it. Read it aloud, pointing by your ear, and 
to clear the sense. Even a comma may be import- 
ant, as, "What do you, mean sir?" is not the same 
as "What do you mean, sir?" not by any manner 
of means. 

When all is to your mind, copy it fairly, in your 
most legible hand, without scrawl or flourish, and 



348 SPELLING, PUNCTUATION AND STYLE. 

with all names and words liable to mistake written 
as plain as print, and especially writing on only one 
side of the sheet. Editors seldom return manu- 
scripts which are not printed. 

It is true that some men of great genius and dis- 
tinction in literature, write cramped, illegible hands, 
without punctuation, and with bad spelling, or no 
spelling at all. It is very difficult for any unaccus 
tomed person to read the manuscripts of Richard 
Hildreth, the historian ; of Horace Greeley, or 
James Gordon Bennett. Hildreth, reading the 
proofs of his history, found so many errors, and 
made so many alterations, that the printers, rather 
than attempt to correct the proof, set it over again. 
Greeley and Bennett must have compositors accus- 
tomed to their writing and style, and capable of 
setting up their articles, if they can only make out 
now and then a word so as to catch the idea. 

In one of these offices, the proof of an article 
was one day brought to the editor. He read it 
doubtingly ; it seemed his, but he had no recollec- 
tion of ever having written it. The compositor was 
called, and the copy produced. It proved to be a 
sheet of paper which had laid on the editor's desk 
for two or three days, and on which he had made a 
variety of memoranda, marks, and idle scribblings, 
out of which the compositor had set up a first rate 
leading article. 

At all times, if you take our earnest advice, you 
will avoid all flourishes, and approach as nearly as 
possible to the simplicity and legibility of type. 
Back hands, Italian hands, and all eccentricities and 
superfluities, had better be dispensed with. Do not 
write great sprawling letters, nor yet so fine as to 
try the eyes and patience of your correspondents 



CORRESPONDENCE. 349 

Leave the lines well apart ; and do not, to save the 
fraction of a cent, write across or on your margins. 
Put in as many sheets as are necessary to fairly 
contain your matter ; and be sure that you pay the 
full postage, not paying one rate yourself, and leav- 
ing your friend to pay a still larger one. 

Apropos : pay your postages always, and if writ- 
ing a letter which requires an answer on your busi- 
ness, enclose a stamp, or a stamped envelope, but 
not directed. It is more courteous to let your 
friend superscribe his own letter. 

Every letter requiring an answer should be im- 
mediately attended to, particularly if on business. 
To not answer when written to, is the same kind of 
rudeness as not to speak when spoken to. In each 
case there may be a good reason for silence. 

In a friendly correspondence, the first letter 
should be answered as soon as received ; but the 
second should be delayed the same interval as that 
taken by the first writer, who in this way regulates 
the frequency of the correspondence. This is^ a 
good rule among equals ; but where a gentleman 
writes to a lady, he can hardly delay an immediate 
answer, unless at her own request. 

Where a letter is long, or important ; where there 
are matters to be attended to, or subjects requiring 
consideration — a brief note should be sent at once, 
acknowledging the receipt of the letter, and prom- 
ising a fuller answer. 

Be very careful in all letters of business or poli- 
tics, in writing what may compromise you, if seen 
by others or published, or what may at some future 
time be used to your disadvantage. As the world 
actually moves ; as things and thoughts are contin- 
ually changing and advancing, in some order of pro 



350 LOVE LETTERS. 

gress, the feeling or opinion of to-day, in a few 
months or years, may seem ridiculous. Eminent 
men ridiculed the railroad, ocean steamers, and 
other achievements of recent enterprise and inven- 
tion ; so new ideas a^e ridiculed aud violently op- 
posed, which in a little while are universally accept- 
ed. There are few persons who at fifty years of 
age could read even the love letters they wrote at 
twenty with any degree of patience. 

Of love letters, a few words. Speech, gesture, 
and the magnetism of personal presence and con- 
tact, are more to be trusted by persons moderately 
impressible, than correspondence. I have known 
several marriages, where the courtship was by cor- 
respondence, where the persons were engaged before 
seeing each other, which ended very unhappily. 
Your favorite authors are usually very different 
from what you imagine them to be. Some put 
themselves on paper — some the reverse of them- 
selves. The comic writer is likely to be a gloomy 
misanthrope ; while the author who drowns you in 
tears of tragic woe may be, personally, brimful of 
careless hilarity. In the same way, the lady or 
gentleman with whom you enter into an amatory 
correspondence may fill their letters with the affec- 
tation of those sentiments they are conscious of 
being most in need of. 

As you would live true lives ; as you would give 
expression to the truth of your conversation and 
tiction, so endeavor, within the bounds of a prudent 
moderation, to give a true expression of yourself in 
your correspondence with your friends and those 
you love. 

Avoid cant, which is much more common in 
writing than in conversation. Many people think 



PECULIARITIES OF STYLE. 351 

they must fill their letters with pious phrases and 
religious exhortations. If these are really true ex- 
pressions, and what they would say to you if pres- 
ent, it may be honest, however impertinent ; but 
where such cant is a mere form, or pretense, it is no 
more to be respected than the old form of " I take 
my pen in hand," &c. 

If you have any ambition to fill a respectable 
station in life, learn the art of writing well, in the 
form of your chirography ; choose a good style, 
and practice perseveringly until you have conquered 
a good hand. It can be done at any age. Learn 
to spell and point accurately. Study the best 
authors, or those which please you best for style. 
Dr. Franklin used to read Addison, and then, in a 
few days, endeavor to write out the same ideas, and 
compare his style with the original. Addison has 
finish, but wants force. Most of our American 
writers fail in the other extreme. There is a ten- 
dency to the extravagant, the high-flown, and the 
intense. Those who read Headley and Lippard, 
should take large doses of Irving and Cooper as 
antidotes. The style of Irving is pure, musical, 
and better than Addisonian. That of Cooper is 
strong, bold, and thoroughly American. There 
have been few better writers of English than Wil- 
liam Cobbett and Thomas Paine. The novels of 
Disraeli are of the finest specimens extant of musi- 
cal prose ; and the writings of Walter Savage Lan- 
dor full of a noble dignity and classic purity. 

Avoid personal peculiarities of style, or literary 
idiosyncrasies, as you would an imitation of similar 
eccentricities in dress or manners. If you have 
such originalities of your own, they are very well ; 
but you have no right to other people's. It is no 



352 



EDUCATION. 



compliment to say that a person's style is Carlylish 
or Willissy, Doesticky or Fanny Fernish, however 
delightful may be these several peculiarities. 

As a nation, our education is much neglected. 
There are few good speakers ; a good reader it is 
difficult to find, and good writers are few and far 
between. Many persons with noble and beautiful 
ideas fail of all power of expression. Some think 
so much faster than they can write, that they have 
great trouble to hold a thought until they can get 
it on paper. This is one reason why fluent speak- 
ers are often poor writers ; and in other cases, and 
in most instances, the best writers are poor speakers. 
A musician will practice ten hours a day, for five or 
ten years, to thoroughly master his art and instru- 
ment. Is it not worth as much effort to become a 
good writer ; by which means a retired student and 
even a feeble woman may sometimes move the world 
of mind, and shape the destinies of nations ? 




CHAPTER XX. 



MUSIC. 

e have alluded to Music as 
a charming Accomplishment, 
a refining Art, and a noble 
Science, which gives us the 
key of social harmonies ; but 
it may be well to offer our 
young, or otherwise improv- 
ing readers some suggestions 
in regard to it. 

Music is a succession of 
melodies, or an assemblage 
of harmonious sounds, pleas- 
ing to the sense of hearing, 
and the internal faculties to 
which it ministers. 
We have in nature many sounds called musical j 
the roar of waters, the sighing of the winds, the 
crash of thunder ; we have the melody of birds in 
all their beautiful varieties ; the bleating flocks and 
lowing herds ; these make up the music of nature, 
which has beauties and sublimities that all but the 
most clodden souls enjoy. 

The music of savage and barbarous nations is 
usually as coarse, harsh, and discordant as their 
own conditions. Chinese bands are assemblages of 
23 




354 music. 

horns, gongs, and drums, full of the harshest an6 
most discordant elements. With single instruments 
they make some approach to melody. Those who 
have heard the peace and war songs of our North 
American Indians, with which they accompany their 
dances, know how monotonous and unmusical they 
are. 

The music of the Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans 
is supposed to have been of a higher character, and 
to have contained elements, not only of fine melody, 
but of harmony and much grandeur of expression. 

In our own time, and in all European nations, or 
those of European origin, music is an important 
element of civilization — one of the purest and no- 
blest arts, and most humanizing influences of soci- 
ety. Italy is the " land of song ;" in all Germany, 
music not only employs great numbers, as a profes- 
sion, pursued with enthusiasm and devotion, but it 
forms a large part of the education of youth, and 
of the enjoyment of every age. Music is wedded 
to religion, from the grand masses, chants, and ser- 
vices of the Catholic Church, to the hymns of the 
camp meeting, thrilling the tree tops that overarch 
the forest temple. Music is the inspiring element 
of war, from the rude fife and drum of a country 
training, to the grand regimental band of a hundred 
pieces, that pours out a torrent of energizing har- 
mony. Music is the delight of society, from the 
parlor song of the gentle girl, who accompanies 
herself on her guitar or piano forte, to the inspiring 
quadrille band of the ball room, and the combined 
attractions of the grand opera. 

We do not intend to give a treatise on the rudi- 
ments of the art of music, but only some practical 
suggestions. 



MELODY AND HARMONY. 355 

The first requisite, either for a player or singer, 
is tune, or a good ear to distinguish the exact in- 
tervals, which form melodies or harmonies, and than 
command over the voice or instrument necessary to 
produce them. 

Melody is the result of certain relations in the 
succession of sounds. A single voice, singing cor- 
rectly an air, produces melody. Sometimes it refers 
to mere sweetness of tone, as we speak of the mel- 
ody of birds, in which the succession of tones is 
wild and irregular. 

Harmony is the accord or pleasing agreement of 
two or more sounds at the same time, as in the 
union of voices singing different parts, or of instru- 
ments. 

Some instruments are kept in tune, and do not 
require a perfect ear. Our friend with the hand 
organ has only to turn the crank ; and a deaf man 
may play very well on a pianoforte ; but to sing, or 
play on the violin, requires an ear of perfect nicety. 
Some persons are born with this, and show it as 
early as at three years old ; to others it comes later, 
and as the result of some effort and training ; while 
others, individuals here and there, never have it. 
In Italy and Germany, an ear for music — not the 
mere love of it, but the power to produce it — is the 
natural gift of almost the wnole population. In 
England and this country it is nor so common. In 
France, Fourier says it is remarkably deficient, and 
among the Chinese and other orientals it is almost, 
wholly wanting. In Germany, and among the 
Germans in this country, you hear little children 
singing duets and trios. "When three or four meet, 
they do not all sing one part, but stiike ii*to impro- 
vised seconds and bases 



356 FAULTS 01 SINGERS. 

Without a musical ear, or the power of whistling 
or singing a melody in tune, or of producing an ac- 
curate harmony, it is useless to attempt to sing, or 
to play on any instrument but one which produces 
unvarying notes. The ear may be cultivated to a 
certain extent ; but in many cases much effort is of 
but little avail. 

The observations respecting tone, in our chapter 
on conversation, apply still more to singing. With 
a sweet voice, a good ear, and a pure taste, you 
will make a good singer. 

Singers are inclined to a few errors you will do 
well to avoid. Intensity, power, or force of sound 
may be painfully exaggerated. Noise is not music. 
Would that we could make our trombone and base 
drum players believe it. They blow and beat them- 
selves deaf ; and then do all they can to reduce 
others to the same condition. Ladies with sweet 
little voices, who have heard Jenny Liud sing to 
five thousand people, try to squall as loud in a little 
parlor. Gentlemen with base voices will roar you 
like Lablache. 

Another grave fault is to affect a wide register. 
Some Italian tenor 
sings B flat, or even 
high C from the chest, 
and you, Donkey 
that you are, strain 
your throat and dis- 
tress your hearers mis- 
erably in trying to do 
the same. And Jenny 
Lind or Grisi, or some high soprano, goes up to B, 
and every young lady squalls aud squeals herself 
into a chronic laryngitis, in trying to sing in the 




TIME. 351 

same register ; or if a contralto, she makes herself 
as grum as a speaking trumpet. A wide register is 
not necessary to the most pleasing effects, and few 
of our finest melodies run more than one octave 
and a half. Find the notes you can sing sweetly 
and easily, and be content. 

Singing too low, and so as not to be heard, is a 
fault almost as distressing. Twenty modest girls in 
a country singing choir will scarcely make as much 
sound as one full fed grasshopper. In singing, as 
in speaking, fill the room, and be fully heard by the 
audience ; but do not exceed the full honest capacity 
of your voice. 

Time is a necessary element of all music, both 
melody and harmony. Where several parts move 
together, they must be sung in time ; and the move- 
ment of music, its peculiar rhythm, is often its most 
important characteristic. Mark your time carefully, 
then, and habitually. Let it be true as the pendu- 
lum of a clock, with the freedom of ad libitum move- 
ments. Sing and walk — sing to the swinging of a 
ball to a string ; in some way acquire exact appre- 
ciation of time, but, when acquired, do not mark it 
noisily — especially do not beat time, when listening 
to music. 

The register of the voice, or of any instrument, 
is the number of notes it can reach, and its place in 
the scale. A piano forte has a scale of from six to 
seven octaves ; running through all the registers of 
male and female voices, which are basso profundo, 
basso, baritone, tenor, counter tenor or contralto, 
mezzo soprano, and soprano. A base voice com- 
monly reaches from F below to C above the base 
clef ; a tenor, from B to nearly two octaves above ; 
soprano from B on the middle of the tenor clef, to 



858 GENERAL RULES. 

A y B, C, or nearly two octaves above. The baritone 
is between base and tenor ; contralto between tenor 
and soprano or treble. 

" The singer should stand in an upright, natural 
attitude, without any effort or stiffness. The mouth 
must be kept sufficiently open, so as, without any 
subsequent alteration, to pronounce the vowel to 
which the notes are to be sung. If the mouth be 
opened too wide, the voice becomes hollow. Gut- 
tural, dental, and nasal qualities of tone, are caused 
by the mouth and teeth being opened too much or 
too little. Before emitting the sound, the student 
must take breath, copiously and with promptitude. 
As soon as he has taken breath, he must attack the 
note readily and firmly, and not as if preceded or 
followed by an appogiatura, The note must be 
begun soft, gradually swelled, and then gradually 
diminished to the softest at its conclusion. This is 
called by the Italians mzzza voce,, and must be prac- 
tised on every note within the compass of the voice, 
taking breath between each note. There must be 
no movement of the mouth or tongue. The prac- 
tice of swelling and diminishing a long note in the 
same breath is necessary to acquire expression and 
the power of giving the true accent to musical sen- 
tences. The scale may be practiced with the notes 
detached by separate emissions of the breath, or 
smoothly connected in one continuous emission of it. 
!No attempt must be made to sing notes higher than 
the voice can conveniently reach, as nothing is more 
likely to spoil the voice than forcing it beyond its 
natural limits. Practice must be conducted with 
moderation, so as not to injure the chest. Under 
such management, singing is beneficial to the con- 
stitution." 



A CLEAR ARTICULATION. 359 

When the music is fine, and the words indifferent, 
the former is not to be sacrificed to the latter. In 
most operas, the words are silly enough ; while the 
music is admirable in itself, and gives the finest ex- 
pression to the idea. Those who do not understand 
the Italian, therefore, lose but little, and if the 
words were English we should understand them but 
little better But where the words and their mean- 
ing is more important than the melody or harmony 
of the music, they should be heard with great dis- 
tinctness, and always as much as possible without 
detracting from the music. 

The Italian language is peculiarly soft, and well 
adapted to musical expression ; while ours, though 
strong, is hard, harsh, guttural, and hissing. Our 
negro minstrels, and such bands of harmonists as 
the Hutchinsons, who sing as much for the senti- 
ment of the words, as for the melody of the sounds, 
have shown what can be done by clear articulation. 

In singing, each note should be given purely, and 
generally in its full length. Staccato passages, 
where each note is sounded short, with pauses be- 
tween, are given for particular effects. There 
should be little gliding or sliding up and down on 
the scale from one note to another. 

Avoid singing in the nose, and all uncouth tones. 
The object of music is to give pleasure. Sing or 
play when you are asked — modestly, that is for a 
short time ; cheerfully, without being pressed ; and 
as well as you can. 

Sing with expression ; but let it be rather sub- 
dued — because every exaggeration of sentiment 
tends to the ridiculous. 

But do not go to the other extreme of singing 
everything in the same monotonous way, a patriotic 
ode a love ditty, or a comic song. 



360 



TASTE AND ELEGANCE 




To sing well ; with a pure, sweet tone, a simple 
natural maimer and expression, in tune and time, 
and with a certain taste and elegance, is a beautiful 
accomplishment. Learn to sing without accompa- 
niment, that you may not be the slave of your in- 
strument ; but if you can touch the guitar lightly 
and gracefully, or play the piano-forte ; or even 
pick out a neat and harmonious accompaniment on 



EXPRESSION IN SINGING. 361 

the violin, playing it with the fingers, or pizzicato, 
instead of with the bow, it is well worth some pains. 
For music, if the natural language of Religion, and 
War, and Pleasure, it is still more that of Love, and 
all the gentle affections which cluster around that 
grand harmonic passion. 

The heart is reached much more readily through 
the ears than the eyes. What we see excites our 
admiration — it is what we hear that inspires our 
love. The soft murmur of a musical voice, its sweet 
low tones, in speech or song, thrill to the depths of 
being. 

" If music be the food of love, play on." 

Expression in singing is something superadded 
to intonation, time, accent, articulation, and even 
execution ; or it is the blending of all graces to pro- 
duce a particular effect. Music, like painting, has 
its general tone or character, its harmony, not only 
of chords, but of parts, its coloring and light and 
shade, or succession of soft, and loud, tender, gay, 
intense, or pathetic. It is capable of expressing 
every feeling, if not every thought, as love and 
hate, joy and grief, triumph and despair. 

Music, in its high cultivation, is an art that re- 
quires years of earnest study. There are indeed 
vocalists so gifted, as to be prodigies by nature — 
eloquent in song ; and some have had much reputa- 
tion who never took the trouble to learn to read 
music by its artificial signs 

To become a good performer on any instrument, 
however, is to every person a work of time and 
labor. The earlier it is begun the better. The 
child with a musical ear and taste who commences, 
not to drum tunes merely, but a careful scientific 



Ot>2 TECHNICAL TERMS USED IN MUSIC. 

study, at six years old, gets a flexibility of move- 
ment, and a command of the instrument, never so 
readily acquired afterward. 

A professional musician should play from six to 
ten hours a day, steadily, and for years, in a gra- 
dually progressive school. An amateur should 
practice from two to four hours ; and not relax 
until he has obtained a good command of the in- 
strument. 

I do not despair, even in this country, which is 
musical now only in a medium degree, to see the 
time when every village will have its well-trained 
band, its full orchestra, and a powerful chorus, with 
solo siugers capable of giving with effect the na- 
tional music, of which our Ethiopian melodists, and 
glee bands, are the harbingers. 

The technical terms used in music are mostly Ita- 
lian, with a few French. Used by English writers, 
or in conversation, they give an air of learning ; but 
we must remember that these expressions, so high 
sounding to us, are very familiar words at home ; 
like plain, every-day people, dressed up, and making 
a great show when they travel abroad. We give 
a few of the most useful of these terms, or those 
most useful to know in reading musical works or 
criticism. 

Adagio Cantabile e Sostenuto {Italian). Very slow, 
and in a sustained or singing style. 

A Deux Temps {French). Common time, or two beats in 
a measure. 

Ama Tendres {Fr.). Amatory songs. 

Allegro (It.). Rapid. Less rapid is Allegretto. An 
dante is still slower. 

Amateur {Fr.) in any art is one who practices it. but not 
professionally ; not one who merely likes it. 

Amoroso {It.). Soft and tender. 



TECHNICAL TEMRS USED IN MUSIC. 363 

A Plomb (Fr.). With marked exactness of time. 

A Poco a Poco (It.). Gradually, little by little. 

A Quatre Mains (Fr.). For four hands, as of two per- 
formers on the piano forte. 

Aria Buffa (It.) Comic air. 

Aria di Bravura. An air requiring much execution. 

Arietta (It.). A short air, in a familiar style. 

Ave Maria (It.). Hymn to the Virgin Mary. 

Ballet. A dramatic story, told with action and music. 

Basso (It.). Base part or singer. 

Bizzarro (It.). Fantastic, whimsical. 

Bis (Latin). Twice ; to be repeated. 

Bolero. Spanish dance, in waltz time. 

Bravo. Exclamation of approval to a male ; if a female 
you must say brava ; if more than one, bravi. 

Broderies (Fr.). Unstudied ornaments. 

Bdrletta (A). A short comic opera. 

Cacophony. Discordance. 

Cadenza (It). A closing ornament. 

Cantabile (It). A melodious, smooth, singing style. 

Cantatrice (It.). A female singer. 

Canzonet. A little air. 

Capriccio (It). An irregular composition, in which the 
author follows his fancy and genius. 

Cavatina (It). A short air, consisting of a single move- 
ment without a second strain. 

Chanson (Fr.). A song. 

Chansonnette (Fr.). A little song 

Chanteuse (Fr.), A female vocalist. 

Chromatic. Proceeding by semitones. 

Common Chord. The third, fifth, and eighth from any 
note, struck simultaneously with it. 

Con Anima (It). With great expression. 

Concerto (It). A composition with instrumental accom- 
paniments, written to display the particular excellence of 
one performer. 

Con Gusto, Gustoso (It). Tastefully. 

Connoisseur (Fr.). A skilful judge and lover of music. 

Contra-Basso (It). The double bass. 

Contrapunto (It). Counterpoint ; the art of adding one 
or more parts, more or less simple, to a given subject. 

Cornet a Pistons (Fr.). A valve trumpet of recent in- 
vention. 



364 TECHNICAL TERMS USED IN MUSIC. 

Counterpoint. The art of composition. 

Cremona (It.). A small town in Italy, remarkable ££ 
having been the dwelling place of several of the greatest 
violin makers, as Amati, Straduarius, Guarnarius, &c. 

Diapason. An octave. In an organ, the diapason stops 
are so called because they run through the whole compass 
or register of the instrument. 

Diatonic (Greek). Proceeding by tones and semitones, 
according to the natural scale. 

Dilettante (It.). An admirer and patron of music. 

Derecteur (Fr.). The director of a musical performance. 

Divertissement (Fr.). A short ballet, such as is intro- 
duced between the acts of an opera. 

Dolce con Gusto (It.), With taste and delicacy. 

Dominant. The fifth note of the scale taken from any 
key-note. 

Extempore. "Without previous meditation. 

Falsetto (It.). That part of a man's voice which is above 
its natural compass, and which produces a feigned or arti- 
ficial tone. 

Fantasia (It.). A composition in which the author gives 
himself up wholly to the caprice of his ideas. 

Finale. The last movement of a sonata, symphony, qua- 
drille, act of an opera, or other musical piece. 

Fioeiture. Graces added to the simple notes of a melody 
in singing. 

Florid. Embellished or ornamented. 

Forte-Piano (It.). The piano is thus designated from its 
capability of varying the intensity of the sounds from soft 
to loud, and the contrary. 

Grandioso (It.) In a noble and elevated style. 

Harmonics. Certain faintly audible sounds which always 
accompany a principal sound. This name is also given to 
a peculiar species of artificial notes, somewhat resembling 
the tones of a flageolet, which may be produced from a 
violin, violoncello, harp, &c. by stopping the strings in a 
certain way. 

Improvisatori (It). Certain musical poets, whose pro- 
fession is to recite and sing extempore. 

Interlude. Something played or sung between the acts 
of a drama, or between the verses of a psalm, hymn, &c. 

Intonation. In singing, implies the emission of the 
voice so as to produce any required note in proper tune. 



TECHNICAL TERMS USED IN MUSIC. 365 

Key-Note. That principal note of the scale to which all 
the rest are subordinate, and which is therefore the root of 
the scale. 

Legato (It.). A word implying a close gliding manner 
of performance. 

Liason (Ft.). A hind or tie. Also, when preceded by 
avec, with great smoothness and connection. 

Libretto (It.). The poem to be set to music by the com- 
poser. The book of the words of any opera. 

Lyric. An epithet applied to poetry intended to be 
sung ; because formerly the voice was always accompanied 
with the lyre. 

Melodrama. A modern species of drama, of French ori- 
gin, accompanied with descriptive music. 

Mezzo (It.). Half ; as, mezzo voce, in a subdued tone ; 
mezzo piano, rather piano ; mezzo forte, rather loud. 

Morceau (Fr.). Any musical composition generally. 

Motive. The subject or leading air of a composition. 

Obligato (It). This word applied to a part or an accom- 
paniment, shows that it cannot be left out, as it is necessary 
to the effect. 

Oboe (It.). The hautboy. 

Opera Seria (It.). A serious or tragic opera. 

Orchestra. That part of the theatre in which the musi- 
cians are placed. 

Phrase. An incomplete musical idea, generally occu- 
pying two bars, or at most three. 

Piano (It.). Soft ; this word expresses a very slight de- 
gree of intensity ; the opposite of forte. 

Pizzicato (It.) abbreviated Pizz., written over or under a 
passage for the violin or violoncello, signifies that the 
strings, instead of being played upon with the bow, must be 
twitched with the fingers, in imitation of the guitar or harp. 

Pot-pourri (Fr.). Several airs combined in one piece, 
forming a sort of capriccio or fantasia. 

Piieghiera (It). A prayer. 

Prelude. A short introductory and generally extempo- 
raneous performance. 

Previa Donna (It). The principal female singer in the 
Italian serious opera. 

Primo Basso. First base singer. 

Quadrille (Fr.). A set of five dance movements follow- 
ing one another without interruption or stop. They are 



366 TECHNICAL TERMS USED IN MUSIC. 

Le Pantalon, La Poule, L'Fte, La Trenise oil Pastourdle, and 
La Finale. 

Rhythm. Musical accent and cadence. 

Ritornella (It). A short phrase which either precedes 
or follows an air. 

Romance. A lyric tale of a romantic cast. 

Rondo (It.). An air or piece in a cheerful style, charao 
terized by the frequent return of the same subject. 

Roulade (Ft.). A rapid flight of decorative notes. 

Scena {It.'). A scene ; a portion of an opera. 

Scherzando (It.). Playfully. 

Sinfonie (Fr.). A symphony or orchestral composition, 
consisting of several movements. 

Sonata (It.). A composition consisting of several move- 
ments, generally for a single instrument. 

Sotto Voce (It.). In a soft or subdued manner, in an 
under tone. 

Stabat Mater (Latin). A hymn descriptive of the cru- 
cifixion. 

Symphony. The introductory and concluding instrumen- 
tal parts of a song : also an instrumental composition, con- 
sisting of several movements, designed for a full orchestra. 

Thorough Bass. The art of playing from figures placed 
over any bass. 

Voce (It.). The voice. 

Voluntary. A sonata for the organ, calculated to show 
off the powers of the instrument, and the skill of the per- 
former ; it generally consists of two or three movements. 



These terms, French and Italian, you can learn 
the signification of ; but unless you understand the 
pronunciation, you will not be able to speak one of 
all these words, unless in some way its proper sound 
has become familiar. For their pronunciation, see 
in the proper chapter. 

If you sing or play at all, or so much as some- 
times to be called upon, learn carefully a few pieces 
or songs, of a good style, serious and gay, and 
adapted to different companies or occasions, and 
keep them in mind, so as not to be unable to think 



MUSIC A SUBJECT OF CONVERSATION. 361 

of anything. While practising it is well to keep to 
your notes or printed music ; but do not be a slave 
to it, for you might as well always read and never 
speak. Play from memory ; learn to play a variety 
of dances, if you frequent gay company. It is well 
to be able to play and call all the figures of a quad- 
rille, and very convenient also to understand enough 
of music to improvise an accompaniment, or even 
an air if needed. In fact, the finest expression of 
music is the spontaneous outpouring of a genuine 
voluntary or improvization. 

In music people find, or ought to find, their true 
places, and to see that all parts are necessary to 
make up the whole. The least and simplest instru- 
ment in the orchestra is necessary to the whole 
effect ; and though the first violin may be more 
honorable than the base drum or cymbals, they are 
much on an equality at dinner time. 

So true and delightful a pleasure as music, natu- 
rally becomes in every polished circle a subject of 
conversation. Even those who care nothing for it 
think they must pretend to adore what is so fashion- 
able. A few have the frankness to confess a want 
of culture or of taste ; and consider opera a hum- 
bug and concerts a bore. To talk well on any sub- 
ject except metaphysics or transcendental philoso- 
phy, it is needful to know something about it. 

You should know, for example, the difference be- 
tween a march and a waltz, or a schottish and a 
polka. 

You must not expect an amateur of the tragic 
opera, who would be delighted to sing you Casta 
Diva or the entire role of Lucia, to condescend to 
sing Ben Bolt or Highland Mary. 

You are not to confuse the old masters of classic 



368 MUSICAL KNOWLEDGE NECESSARY. 

music, Handel, Hadyn, Beethoven, Mozart, &c, 
with the operatic composers of a later period, Ros- 
sini, Bellini, Mercadanti, Donizetti, and Yerdi. A 
little trouble will clear your mind of confusion on 
this as other subjects, and you will be able to con- 
verse without embarrassment or ridicule, and read 
or listen with pleasure and profit. 

But where books are not at hand, never conceal 
your ignorance of this or anything. Ask for infor- 
mation, wherever it is to be properly obtained. If 
you frankly and bravely ask whatever you wish to 
know, you will have the credit of knowing enough 
to be able to afford it. Do not be impolitely or in- 
trusively inquisitive, but when you ask a question, 
be sure that it is a proper one, and one that the 
person you ask will cheerfully answer. 

The necessity of such knowledge increases daily. 
The opera is a permanent institution ; the country 
is fast filling with music and musical instruments. 
Nearly every house has its pianoforte or melodeon. 
The former every player should learn how to keep 
in tune. We have a constant influx of musical 
talent from Europe ; many performers of great ex- 
cellence, and of the purest genius — and doubtless 
a few who make up for their lack of better qualities 
by affectation and pretense. 




THE OPERA QLASS. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



GYMNASTICS AND DANCING. 




I haye never been able to 
understand, if indeed I have 
ever heard clearly stated, the 
objections which are said to 
be entertained by great bodies 
of people against dancing, 
which is to motion what music 
is to sound. That there is any 
immorality in graceful move- 
ments of the person ; that 
there is sin in the beauty and 
enjoyment of a series of posi- 
tions, gestures, and movements which employ the 
muscular system, and give expression to the finest 
conceptions of art, I confess I cannot in the least 
comprehend. 

The reader, if subject to these prejudices, or en- 
tertaining this belief, will therefore, I hope, excuse 
me. . I see no difference between dancing and walk- 
ing, or standing still, except that motion is often 
pleasanter than rest ; and I see no reason why a 
man or woman should not dance as well as a fish 
swim, a horse run, or a bird fly. 

Dancing, as observed, is the rapid production of 
a series of postures or pictures ; as practiced, it is a 
24 



310 ANCING CONDUCIVE TO HEALTH. 

series of graceful muscular exercises. Of its effects 
in both ways, I may claim to have had some prac- 
tical knowledge, and, at the risk of offending those 
who differ with me in opinion, I must honestly re- 
port my own experience. I have danced, some- 
times, five nights in a week, balls not being usually 
given on Saturday evening ; and not unfrequeDtly 
at from three to five different places the same night. 
Not that this is the best way to enjoy dancing, but 
that it gave me a wide observation, as well as per- 
sonal experience. I have never been conscious of 
the slightest harm even from what may seem excess. 
I was continually strengthened, and made more 
healthy. I have never seen any one injured, physi- 
cally or morally, by dancing, and it really appears 
to me to be the most innocent, the least objectiona- 
ble, and the most improving of social enjoyments. 

It combines several elements of enjoyment. The 
music is often admirable. At a New York ball I 
have heard in the course of the evening, the gems 
of fourteen operas. The company is well dressed, 
and well behaved always. It is a school of good 
manners. Every person looks, acts, and feels the 
best he can. To do this once a fortnight, or often- 
er, must do people good. At least, such is my 
opinion. 

Dancing, in its higher developments, as a scenic 
art, may be objected to by those who think that 
morality requires the concealment of the beauties of 
the human form ; but this puritanism is no longer 
urged against statuary or painting, and why then 
against the more animated and not less beautiful 
sister art ? We look at the Eve of Dubufe, or the 
Greek Slave of* Powers, the Apollo and the Venus, 
with no drapery whatever ; why then should we 



DANCING, A NATIONAL PASTIME. 311 

object to the dancer who is entirely covered, and 
who wears as much drapery as is consistent with 
freedom of motion. And here, appealing again to 
my own experience, let me say that I have seen 
every good dancer upon the s+age, and also many 
poor ones, and that the former, from first to last, 
have given me only pleasure. I am not conscious 
of the least injury. Even now, I love to look at 
good dancing, almost as well as thirty years ago ; 
and to dance myself two or three quadrilles, a sch^t- 
tish, and a polka, brings me back much of the 
vivacity and happiness of youth. Others may have 
seen the folly of it, but I never have, nor can I 
comprehend at all the prejudice, which exists, in 
this country, but I believe in no other, called civil- 
ized, against it. 

For dancing is the happy enjoyment of all Euro- 
pean peoples. The English dance least and worst. 
The Scotch and Irish delight in dancing. In France 
everybody dances. It is the great national pastime. 
In Germany, Italy, Hungary, Poland, and even 
Russia, all dance. In Spain, and Portugal, and all 
their colonies. " When the sun sets, all Africa 
dances." The African blood runs musically. And 
they danced beautiful dances in the Isles of the Sea, 
until the missionaries came and stopped it. 

In Turkey, and over Southern Asia, there is 
little but professional dancing. The orientals are 
too dignified and, indolent, to, dance themselves ; 
but they enjoy it as a favorite scenic diversion, when 
done by trained slaves, or the bayaderes. 

Dancing seems the natural, spontaneous expres- 
sion of joyous life. Happiness makes us dance, and 
dancing makes us happy. Nature dances in all her 
happy moods. In many religions, dancing is a 



312 



THE DANCING LESSON. 



part of worship. It was so in the Jewish temple, 
and now is in the temples of India. 

But we have no desire to intrude our opinions, or 
force our convictions upon others. We intend to 
speak of dancing as a mode of physical training in 
the principles of graceful deportment. It will be 
quite optional with the reader whether he ever takes 
part in a dance ; but he cannot on any account ob- 
ject to the training of the limbs, and the whole body 
in graceful exercises, which will give at the same 
time health, the perception of beauty, and the power 
of expressing it. 

Gymnastics is a more general and varied training 
of the whole muscular system : but the most tho- 
rough training in dancing, what may be called the 
high art of saltation, is gymnastic, consisting of the 
exercise of the whole body. 

As in music, the earlier the training commences, 




THE DANCING LESSON 



CALISTHENIC AND GYMNASTIC EXERCISES. 313 

in the principles of grace and power of beautiful 
movement or repose, the better. 

TVe give a lovely picture of a fond mother giving 
her little daughter her first lesson. Here is no ques- 
tion of dancing schools or balls, or dissipation, of 
late hours and improper excitement. It is a ques- 
tion whether a young miss, in her early years, when 
all life is opening to her in beauty and sweetness, 
shall learn the principles of grace, or be left in the 
rudeness of savage nature. 

The calisthenic and gymnastic exercises tend to 
the same result ; and dancing is a part, and a large 
part, of the exercises of the best gymnastic schools. 
But other exercises give vigor, aplomb, and a cer- 
tain solidity of demeanor. For example, the mili- 
tary exercise with the musket, has admirable uses. 




With the feet well planted in the first position, 
with the knees well braced, and the legs held firmly 
together ; with the abdominal muscles contracted, 
and chest thrown out, the shoulders carried back. 



374 THE SPANISH DANCE. 

and the head firmly but not stilly erect, there are 
few better modes of development than the manual 
exercise ; but this should alternate with others, giv- 
ing more pliability and grace to the figure, such, 
for example, as the graceful wreathings, the lithe 
boundings, and the dignified poses of the Spanish 
dances, in which every line of the human form seems 
instinct with grace, as if a soul of beauty was seek- 
ing its most varied expression. 




THE SPANISH DAXCE. 



This group is itself a lesson, which may be studied 
in every part. The feet of the lady are in the fourth 
position, left ; her form describes Hogarth's line of 
beauty ; the curves of the arms correspond to the 
position of the feet ; the attitude is an expression 



THE MINUET DE LA COUR. 375 

of passionate delight ; while that of the gentleman, 
who forms the symmetrical counterpart of the group, 
expresses a tender admiration. 

Let the arms drop by the side, with the feet in 
the third position — of which see further on the 
body strength — then strike the above attitude, and 
alternate with the other foot, and the corresponding 
movements of the arms, and you have one of the 
finest exercises. 

When the French wish to caricature the English 
on the stage, which has long been their favorite 
diversion, they dress up a tall English Milord in a 
red coat, and set him to dancing, handling his legs 
with all needed agility, though with awkwardness 
and angularity, but keeping his head stiff, his body 
as erect and unbending as if a ramrod were put 
through it, and his arms glued straight to his side, 
or hanging loose from their sockets, while his face is 
as serious as a tombstone. It is a ludicrous picture, 
but you may see such in every ball-room. 

In the formal dances of the stately old times of 
hoop petticoats, when our great 
grandmothers in their prim belle- ^& 

hood danced the pompous Minuet 
de la Coior, though the lower half 
of the form might as well have been 
in a tub, the movements cf the ^ , 
head and arms were full of a majes- ** 
tic grace. And the not very pol- 
ished dances of the coarse and un- 
cultivated, when they are a free 
and vigorous expression of their 
hilarity, are accompanied by a 
general, and to a certain extent, 
harmonious movement of the whole 
body. 





376 



TABLEAUX VIVANTS. 



The stiff and often uncouth exercises given in the 
works on calisthenics, are worthy of little attention. 
Exercise is doubtless good, but graceful exercise 
improves both the body and the soul. 

In the carefully arranged tableaux xivants, or liv- 
ing pictures of the drama and the ballet, the differ- 
ent attitudes of several persons are combined to 
make up a harmonious picture. The following re- 
presents merely the morning rehearsal of such a 
tableau, where the ladies of the ballet are in their 




ordinary dresses. It gives you an idea of the atti- 
tudes of the body, head, and arms ; but you may 
very well imagine that the effect of each single 
figure, as well as of the whole group, would be 
much increased where the lower limbs can be seen, 



EXERCISE. 



31T 



with their positions corresponding to those of the 
upper. 

Or if your prejudices are too violent against the 
lower portion of the female 
form, often though not always 
the best developed and most 
beautiful, you may be able to 
perceive in this charming lit- 
tle statuette how much the 
lower limbs have to do with 
the sweet innocence and ex- 
pressive beauty of this lovely 
figure. 

All animated beings are 
strengthened and benefited 
by exercise. The law of sup- 
ply and demand governs the 
circulation of the blood and 
the deposition of nutrient H| 
atoms. The brain organ, or^ 
nerve, or muscle, that is not used, demands no sup- 
ply of nutriment, and ceases to grow. The rounded 
line of beauty comes from the development of activ- 
ity ; and as you would have this development har- 
monious, to keep up the symmetry of the form, so 
should your exercises be such as will strengthen 
every portion of the body. 

The books of gymnastics and calisthenics point 
out many exercises, some of much ingenuity and 
beauty ; but their principles may be expressed in a 
few paragraphs. That exercise is best which de- 
velops most harmoniously and attractively the 
strength, grace, and beauty of the entire person. 
An exercise should never be an irksome task. One 
of the best exercises for the entire body is skipping 




378 UNNATURAL POSTURES. 

the rope, and it may be done very gracefully. Boy& 
find an admirable kind of gymnastics in climbing 
trees ; but this should be done in clothes not liable 
to be torn, and with the clear understanding that 
you have no more right to break up a bird's nest, 
than a giant would have to tear down your house 
and scatter your goods. Held sports, such as hunt- 
ing and fishing, have good exercise often, particu- 
larly the former, but it is cruel. Horsemanship is 
a noble kind of combined gymnastics, of which we 
shall speak further. Walking, if done actively and 
with a free movement of the person, has good exer- 
cise in it, but the lower limbs get more than their 
share, and the brain is exhausted. Graces exercise 
the arms and shoulders well, and tend to the erect- 
ness, freedom, and flexibility of the whole figure. 
They are better than bat and ball, or shuttle-cock, 
as they exercise both arms equally. 

The first point, in any beneficial exercise, is to 
have the dress suitable ; so as to leave the whole 
body free and unconstrained. To dance in corsets 
or tight dresses can be of little advantage, and 
may even aggravate these evils. 

Avoid, carefully, any unnatural posture, especially 
a stooping of the chest, or unevenness of the shoul- 
ders, or irregular curvature of the spine. The 
natural action of the muscles always tends to reme- 
dy these defects, and strengthening exercise is their 
best cure. 

A resolute will and a little perseverance will 
straighten up very crooked spines, and set lungs 
free, which have been long compressed. The result 
is an expansion of the lungs, a freer circulation and 
better purification of the blood ; a better nutrition 
of the whole system ; which is more health and a 
higher beauty. 



INSPIRATION. 



319 



Then straighten up the rounded form, resolutely 
and persevermgly. Stand, if need be, against a 
perpendicular wall ; find the proper position ; and 
then hold it, or even exceed it for a time, until 
habit, and the strengthened muscles keep you in the 
right attitude. 

In countries where women are accustomed to 
carry burdens, but not too heavy, on the head, 
their forms are erect, and their movements dignified. 
It is a good exercise to put a weight of a few pounds 
upon the head, and balance it, walking about. 

The pose of the head, and its relation 
to the bust, la very nicely given in the 
annexed figure of an English lady of the 
aristocracy. The carriage has dignity 
without hauteur. 

Improving exercises exceed our ordi- 
nary movements. Doubtless we ought 
to have such a variety of occupations 
and amusements as would give us every 
kind of exercise required ; and this may 
be when we have arrived at a social 
state, containing more natural condi- 
tions. In the mean time we shall do well, by art, 
to make up for the deficiencies of society. 

The most vital exercise, is the free movement of 
the ribs and diaphragm, necessary to full inspira- 
tions. It is well, whenever in a pure air, to throw 
back the shoulders, and take fall and deep inspira- 
tions. Many people die for want of breath, when 
it is their own carelessness. Give the lungs free 
play, every day, and oftener, and it will harden 
them against disease. Declamation, singing, and 
the practice of ventriloquism are all admirable ex- 
ercises. 




380 SYSTEMATIC EXERCISES. 

Strengthen the arms and shoulders, by moving 
them in all directions with graceful, regular mo- 
tions ; by the use of weights or dumb belles ; by 
throwing and catching heavy balls, weighing from 
ten to twenty pounds, or by the club or scepter ex- 
ercises, which may be varied every way, but should 
be made symmetrical — that is so as to exercise both 
arms equally. 

Strengthen the legs, by using with regularity all 
the movements of which they are capable. Young 
ladies, encumbered at an early age with long full 
robes, do not get the proper development of the 
great number of muscles, external and internal, 
around the hips, and are consequently subject to 
sufferings, from which proper exercises would save 
them. 

In every ladies' school — why not in every family ? 
— there should be hours, in which a proper gymna- 
sium dress should be worn for exercise : a dress 
allowing as much freedom of movement as a boy's. 
By a series of well-directed exercises, made pictu- 
resque and attractive, a pale, feeble, and distorted 
girl, becomes rosy, strong, and beautiful. 

In systematic exercises, you have only to give a 
full movement to every muscle ; making each one 
in succession, or many together do all they can, 
without too much straining and fatigue, and bring- 
ing in always the elements of grace. Every travel- 
ing circus gives us examples of what may be done 
by training. Every being should endeavor to get 
the best command of all his faculties, not sacrificing 
any, but cultivating all in the most natural uses. 
This is the education of the body, as a correspond- 
ing activity and use of the mental faculties is of the 
mind. Both, in all their fullness, are necessary to 
the complete being. 



CALISTHENICS. 



381 







a^ 



Calisthenics is the name given to a kind of mild 
gymnastics, adapted to young ladies, and intended 
to give them strength and beauty. The apparatus 
required is very simple. A long, straight wand ; a 

pair of dumb bells, made 
of lead, cast iron, or 
wood. The one in our 
engraving is of wood. 
The handle, a, six or 
eight inches long, screws into two hollow cylinders, 
which are made so as to be loaded to any weight 
required. 

The long back 
board, with handles 
to hold by, while the 
flat part is held a- 
gainst the shoulders, 
'may be made very 
useful, but less so 
than the clubs or scepters, also made hollow, so as 
to load, or of heavy wood. These 
clubs are to be exercised in pairs, one 
in each hand, and they greatly assist 
the development of the muscles around 
the chest, which are the ones which not 
only give strength and grace to the 
arms, but aid the process of breathing. 
For a variety, and serving the same 
uses, we have lately introduced the 
elastic cord, made of vulcanized India 
rubber, which may be bought for a 
few shillings, and used in a variety of 
graceful exercises. The advantages to be derived 
from this article will repay the purchaser for the 
small outlay required.. 




332 



CALISTHENICS. 




For the lower limbs, and the important muscles 
about the loins, we 
have the triangle, a 
short pole suspended 
from the ceiling at the 
height of the head, by 
a rope, as in the en- 
graving. 

The flying course is 
an extension, or larger 
adaptation of the tri- 
angle. 

The exercises of a class of young ladies, all prac- 
ticing together, in a large cold room, or in the open 
air ; moving simultaneously ; and varying the arm 
exercises with marching, dancing, &c, form a very 
animated and beautiful spectacle. 

We begin with the first exercise. 
Attention ! This commences every 
exercise ; and its peculiar appro- 
priateness will be recognized by 
those who are familiar with syste- 
matic movements and discipline in 
any of the kindred arts. Feet in 
first position. Arms hanging ea 
sily, but turned out more than they 
seem in the engraving. Shoulders 
braced back — chest forward — a la 
militaire. 
The animated movements and joyous counten 
ances of the youthful performers in these sports not 
only afford exercise and health to those immediately 
engaged, but create feelings of gratification and 
pride in the hearts of the parents or friends, inter 
ested spectators, who while they behold the intelli- 




CALISTHENICS. 



383 




ONE I 



gent and spirited movements of those in whom they 
feel a tender interest, unconsciously become partici- 
pants of their pleasures. 

One! — At the word one, raise the hands and 
bring the tips of the fingers in a line 
with, and pointing towards the shoul- 
ders, the body inclining forward, the 
head erect, and shoulders kept well 
back, with the elbows close to the 
side. 

Two /—Dart the 
hands straight to the 
front, with straight 
garms, the palms of 
the hands close toge- 
ther, the thumbs close 
to the forefinger, 
nearly in a line with the chin. 

These two motions are to be re- 
peated from two to one, and again 
from one to two, several times be- 
fore commencing three. 

Three. — The hands are 
thrown back with the 
arms in a line with the 
shoulders, the palms of 
the hands to the front, 
the thumbs close to the 
forefingers, the head 
erect, and shoulders kept 
well back, the body in- 
clining forward, the heels 
raised off the ground, so 
that the weight of the 
body rests on the fore 
part of the feet, using the heels but little. 




two! 




384 



CALISTHENICS. 






These motions are to be repeated from three to 
two, and from two to three several times before 
commencing four. 

At the word four ! let the arms drop gradually 
to the first position. 

When the instructor gives the command to Stand 
at ease, the right foot is to be drawn back about six 
inches, and the greatest part of the weight of the 
body brought upon it ; the left knee is to be slightly 
bent ; the hands brought together before the body, 
the palms being struck smartly together, and that 
of the right hand being then slipped over the back 
of the left, so as to clasp it ; the shoulders are to be 
kept back and square, and the head to the front ; 
the object being that the pupil should stand at ease. 
The second practice is a little varied from this. 
For distinction we will mark the movements as first 
and second. 

First! — The hands are to be 
brought smartly up, with the palms 
to the front, the tips of the fingers in 
a line with the shoulder, pointing 
upwards, the elbows to be kept close 
to the side and well 
back, so as to square 
the shoulders ; the 
head is to be held 
l^erect, and the body 
^slightly inclined for- 
ward. 

Second! — Raise the 
elbows a little so as to draw them 
upwards and backwards, then bring 
the hands smartly down to the side, 
as in second, and assume the posi- 
tion of attention. 





SECOND I 



CALISTHENICS. 



385 





The position of attention prepara- 
tory to the long backboard exercise, 
is given in the annexed figure on the 
right ; while the second position is 
given in the figure at the left ; from 
which point it is 
carried above the 
head — then back of 
the shoulders, low- 
ered behind ; and 
in a series of reg- 
ular, symmetrical 
and graceful movements, but nev- 
er carried to exhausting fatigue, 
; and persevered in from clay to day, 
the whole muscular system is gra- 
dually brought up to its best condition. 

Similar exercises with the lower limbs, in series 
of movements, and changes, like those of dancing, 
develope the harmony of the system, and all its 
beauties and capabilities. We who have seen 
classes of the pale daughters of our city, under the 
tuition of Madame Hawley, in a system of Calisthe- 
uics, and even the higher gymnastics and dancing, 
developed into robust health and radiant beauty, 
can well recommend these exercises to the attention 
of all parents and teachers. 

The first lesson the pupil in dancing gets is, "turn 
out your toes f the injunction so often repeated by 
the worthy Mr. Turveydrop. The foot turned out 
to an angle of forty-live degrees, or so that the two 
heels placed together form a right angle, is recog- 
nized as a graceful position. If we turn further in 
exercises it is by excess, to get the habit of turning 
them sufficiently. It may be said that this is un- 
25 



386 DANCING POSITIONS. 

natural — that Indians and children walk with the 
feet straight and turned in. I can't help that. If 
you choose to walk like a squaw, do so ; but you 
will find few to think it graceful. Civilized people 
turn out their toes. Their muscles are developed in 
that position, and it appears to give the most grace- 
ful and varied use of their powers. In military ex- 
ercises, in fencing, in boxing, as well as in dancing, 
we take that position. 

In dancing, there are five positions, which enter 
into all attitudes and movements. These should be 
practised carefully, and the changes from one to the 
other. Five positions, and a few simple steps, con- 
stitute what may be considered the mechanics of 
dancing. 

The First Position is standing erect, and easily, 
with the heels placed together, and 
the toes turned out as far as pos- 
^^^A^^^> s ^ e - Standing formally in the 
'" ranks as a soldier, in readiness for 
any movement, and in the act of 
making a bow, this is the position. It is a little 
formal, but exhibits the figure in a very exact sym- 
metry. 

The Second Position is taken by letting the 
chief weight of the body rest on 
the left foot, as in the first, and 
gliding the right one, scarcely 
raised from the floor, about its 
own length to the right. It is well at first, to ex- 
aggerate these positions, and carry it a little further. 
The ball of the foot rests lightly on the floor with- 
out touching the heel. In side steps, in balances, 
in the gallop, and wherever there is occasion to 
move sideway — even in making a bow, this position 
comes in play. 




DANCING POSITIONS. 



387 




The Third Position is the most easy and graceful 
of all the positions of rest. It is 
to place the heel of the right foot 
in the hollow of the left, both feet 
being turned out so as to form 
right angles with each other. The 
change from the second to the third is therefore 
simply drawing back the foot to its advanced posi- 
tion in the hollow of the foot. This is the posit io a 
in which we usually stand when prepared for a for- 
ward movement, as in the quadrille. It allows of 
more freedom in the position of the arms, body, 
and head, which are always in a certain graceful 
position to the feet. 

The Fourth Position is an advance from the 
third — a carrying of the right foot di- 
rectly forward or even to the left of 
the left foot, on which the weight of 
the body rests. This being a position 
of movement, the heel does not rest, 
and the toe but lightly. It is the first step in the 
forward of " the quadrille." 

When the foot is carried forward, in most move- 
ments, the toe is depressed, and raised but little 
from the floor. 

The Fifth Position is a recover from the advance 
of the fourth, bringing back the heel of the right 
foot against the toe of the left, with each well turned 
out, and resting on both. It is a graceful and ani- 
mated position, and very well shown in the pretty 
figure of a ballet dancer, which we give to show the 
elegance of the pose, and the graceful corresponding 
carriage of the arms and head. The dress is not so 
long, perhaps, as some of our fastidious readers 
might desire ;. but as we were obliged to sacrifice 




388 THE BALLET DANCER. 

eithei the legs or the calico, we preferred to save the 
former. The arms, we presume, require no apology. 




It is difficult for either a philosopher or a man of 
fashion — and the writer thinks he is something of 
both — to understand what the display or conceal- 
ment of the human limbs, whether the upper or 
lower extremities, has to do with morality ; but 
fastidiousness is as hard to comprehend as fashion 
and fashion seems to govern fastidiousness. 



POSITIONS OF THE FEET. S89 

These five positions apply to both feet, and should 
be exercised with each advanced alternately. In 
the quadrille, and most dances, ladies take their 
positions and make their forward and side move- 
ments with the right foot in advance, as we have 
illustrated ; but in all such cases the gentleman 
dances with the left foot in advance, which, corres- 
ponding to the lady's right, makes np the symmetry 
of .the figure, and when required, brings them facing 
each other. In the gallope, the sliding balance, 
now mostly used in the quadrille, in the polka and 
schottish, this is an evident necessity ; but some 
teachers of dancing have made the curious blunder 
of teaching both sexes to dance with the same move- 
ment in the quadrille, destroying much of the sym- 
metry of this most beautiful and graceful of all 
dances. Gentlemen accustomed to military exer- 
cises will naturally move with the " left foot for- 
ward." When these positions have been learned, 
one by one, and by changing, or gliding gracefully 
from one into the next succeeding, they may be 
practiced in a series of exercises, like the following. 

First, second, third, second, first, and so on, with 
each foot alternately ; leaving the body free, and 
carrying the arms in graceful curves, to correspond 
with each position, not in any prescribed way, but 
so as to form graceful postures. A large mirror 
will aid in this exercise. In the dancing of the par- 
lor and ball room, the feet are scarcely ever raised 
an inch from the floor, but carried with the toes 
depressed with a deliberate gentle gliding move- 
ment. Perhaps the only exception to this is the 
polka, which consists in a series of little bounds, or 
gentle springs, but without any extravagant effort. 

Exercise in changing easily from the third posi- 



S90 THE QUADRILLE. 

tion right, to the same left, by rising on the toes 
and changing the relative position of the feet. 

Sink in each position as low as possible, and rise 
gently, bending the knees. 

Carry the right foot from the first to the second 
position — bring up the left to the third ; second ; 
third ; eight times, and you have the movement of 
the sliding balance. P^eturn with the left foot in 
advance, the same. 

Advance with the fourth right, bring up the left 
to the third, fourth, third ; then change to left, 
fourth, third, fourth, and repeat ; and you have the 
usual " right and left" of the quadrille. The gen- 
tleman practices the reverse movement. 

But we do not expect to teach a novice to dance 
on paper. A master, or any one who has ever 
learned, will show you better in a few minutes, than 
you could learn from a volume. It is our work to 
give yon such instruction as may best prepare you 
to profit by any teachings you may have access to. 

There is little mystery or difficulty in the common 
dancing of society. To dance is with many only to 
stand in their places, and to walk through the fig- 
ures gracefully. You can indeed walk the entire 
quadrille, without ever practicing a dancing step, 
and the entire set of figures is only a series of four 
bars of common time, or eight steps. 

The quadrille gives opportunities to be either 
superbly graceful, or supremely ridiculous. It is a 
social dance, performed in groups of four or more 
couples, often with interchanges of partners, and 
each one is a part of the whole set to which he be- 
longs ; while the polka, waltz, and schottish, favor- 
ites as they are, belong to the dual order of isolate 
couples, who are all the world to each other, and 



THE BROAD-SWORD DANCE. 



391 



very little to any body else, except to get in their 
way. 

Mr. Punch has given us some charming represen- 
tations of the quadrille — the following, for instance, 
in which the gentleman, doing the pas seul of the 
pastoral, or what we term the visitor, shows his 
agile graces to the admiring set. 

A Highlander, dancing the broad-sword dance, 
exhibits one of those athletic dances common to all 




rude people. It corresponds well to the hardy 
character of the Scotch, to the habits of a moun- 
taineer, to the wildness of their music, and the pie* 
turesqueness of the national costume. Making a 
little allowance for artistic exaggeration, this may 
be taken as an example of the movements of the 
upper and lower limbs in a certain natural corre- 
spondence with each other. 



392 



INDIAN WAR DANCE. 



The war dances of the savages are of a still 
ruder order ; but they, too, dance not only with 
their feet, but their whole bodies, and with a start- 
ling vivacity. There are Indian dances indeed, 
forced exhibitions, without excitement, which are 
humdrum and monotonous enough ; but a war 
dance before a battle, or after a victory, when the 
passions are all aroused, it will be conceded, is a 
very different affair. 




Near akin to this are the extravagances of hilar- 
ity, not seldom found in a high civilization, when 
that is accompanied, as it sometimes is, though not 
in this country, with a considerable degree of per- 
sonal freedom. " This is a country of political free- 
dom, but of social restraints. We care very little 
for presidents or governors, but more than any 
people on the face of the earth, except the middle 
classes of the English, for what " Mrs. Grundy" 



COSTTj'ME OF THE DEBA.RDEUR. 



393 



says. Public opinion is a universal despot ; and 
" what will people say V has more influence than 
all principles or laws. 

For such dancing as this, therefore, performed by 
two interesting young ladies, you must go to Paris. 
It has more spirit than grace, you will say ; and yet, 
if you examine the positions of both figures, you 
find them artistic, and the movement is as vigorous, 




at least, as any gymnast could desire. These ladie9, 
dancing at the masked ball of the Carnival, in the 
favorite costume of the debardeur, a sort of fancy 
boatman, are not very liable to curvature of the 
spine, and many other weaknesses which oppress 
their m >re formal sisters on this side of the At- 
lantic. 



394 TIME IN MUSIC. 

The quadrille is usually danced in a common 
time, a two-four, or six-eight measure, in which each 
figure is completed in four, eight, or sixteen beats. 
The forward, for instance, is eight beats ; the right 
and left, with the return, twice eight ; and so on 
through the dance. The measure of all proper 
quadrille tunes is what is called long meter, adapted 
to lines of four feet, or four accented syllables, as 

" 0, Rory O'Moore courted Kathleen Bawn." 
"Ye banks and braes of bonny doon." 

The German waltz is danced to triple time, in 
which you count one, two, three — one, two, three, as 
in — 

" Dark eyed one, dark eyed one, come hither to me." 

The polka movement is a variation of common 
time, with a stronger accent and rest upon the third 
syllable, and is counted one, two, three — and one, 
two, three — and one, two, three ; the three being a 
bound on each alternate foot, a slight pause, and a 
shorter step after it. 

The schottish is danced to a simple, regular and 
slow, one, two, three, four movement, with no varia- 
tion except in the movements of the dancers. 

We shall not attempt a verbal description of 
these dances, for it is nearly useless. Nor do we 
believe it possible to teach any dance by the most 
accurate and careful diagrams ; you must see the 
movement ; but we may give you some valuable 
suggestions, aided by spirited illustrations, respect- 
ing the style of each dance, and the graces of 
which it is capable. 

The polka, as danced upon the stage, particularly 



POLKA IN COSTUME. 895 

in the picturesque costume of its fatherland, is one 
of the most spirited of dances ; full of a joyous and 
bounding life ; full of bold and striking positions ; 
full of the most energetic movements. It is a dance 
to stir the blood even of a spectator, and brings 
vividly before him the life, and courage, and roman- 
tic achievement, of which it is the expression. 




POLKA IN COSTUME. 



The ball-room polka is the same animal, caught, 
tamed and civilized into gentle usages. It is quiet 
and tender in its character, with more variety than 
the waltz, and capable of more vivacity. The 
music, as all know who have listened to it, is singu- 
larly inspiring. In the beautiful illustration which 



396 



Ball-room polka. 



we give below, the grouping is one of many grace* 
ful and beautiful ones. The feet of the gentleman 
at this point of the movement are in the second 
position ; the left knee is bent easily, the right arm 
supports with delicacy the lady, whose left arm 
reposes upon it, her hand upon his shoulder, which 
she looks over with an air of pensive pleasure. 
The right arm of the gentleman is extended in a 
gentle curve, holding the end of the ladyN lingers in 
the most approved method. The styie of the 
whole, with whatever allowance may be needful for 
changes in the fashion of costume, is admirable. 




BALL-ROOM POLKA. 



The schottish is a gentle polka, danced to a slower 
movement, and with a regular time. It combines 
a sliding step forward, as in the figure, and two 
slight bounds upon the foot first advancing, a return 
step to the lady's left, with two hops on the other 



THE SCHOTTISH. 



m 



foot. This completes two bars of the movement, or 
a count of eight ; and the next eight consists of 
two complete gyrations, made in four hops each, 
bringing the couple back to their original position, 
but all the time advancing in a large circle, as in 
the waltz. The position of the arms is in some 
respects more graceful than in the last figure, and 
the lady has her head turned, so as to regard the 
forward movement. 




THE SCHOTTISH. 



The waltz, a native of Germany, has long been a 
favorite dance in all advanced societies. True, 
there have been violent objections ; and those who 
believe that a woman should never come into any 
near personal contact with any gentleman but a 
near relation, or a probable or actual husband, must 



393 



THE WALTZ. 



still object to this and all similar dances, but more 
especially to this ; for in no other are the spheres 
of two persons so entwined with each other, and 
none exercises so great an influence over the per- 
sonal magnetism, the senses and the emotions. 
Doubtless it should be engaged in with caution by 
all sensitive organizations. A woman, especially, 
ought to be very sure that the man she waltzes with 
is one worthy of so close an intimacy ; and one who 
understands her nature and relations well, will not 
ivaltz with any other. 




THE WALTZ. 



The whole style and position of the couple in the 
above figure, is artistically unexceptionable, only 



A PLEASANT MORNING EXERCISE. 



399 



that the artist has drawn them in a reversed posi- 
tion. The gentleman's hand, which should be the 
right one, supports her delicate waist at the exact 
point ; his other grasps her fingers in the most ap- 
proved style, and . her hand curves carelessly from 
his shoulder. This is admirable, and the fair young 
girl is evidently enjoying the dance itself, and not 
her partner, who seems to be simply one of those 
dancing men of society, very good for partners, and 
nothing else. 

But the waltz, the polka, the schottish ; the 
dances of couples, involving personal associations of 
too free a character for the public ball-room, stran- 
gers, or ball-room acquaintances, may yet be proper 
and agreeable, as the pleasant exercise of a morn- 
ing or evening at home, where, in a family group, 
or a little party of select and intimate friends, the 
pianoforte is opened, and the dance occupies the 
pauses of conversation, and gives life and motion ; a 
deeper respiration and a quicker circulation to those 
who so often grow languid and ill for want of it. 




DAKCING AT HOME. 



400 



HOW TO MAKE A BOW. 





But whatever may be the proprieties or morali- 
ties of dancing in general, or of partic- 
ular dances, which each one ought to 
be able to decide for himself, no person 
can doubt the utility of the training it 
gives and the habits it forms. It is per- 
fectly safe to assure ourselves that a 
gentleman who puts himself in such an 
attitude as this, is under very slight obligations to 
the dancing master. It is unques- 
tionable that the whole style of 
this meeting between two gentle- 
men, one of whom has a lady on 
his arm, was never learned of any 
distinguished professor of Deport- 
ment. 

To be able to make a bow with 
the finished grace, the easy delib- 
eration, and the dignity of a pol- 
ished gentleman, is worth the cost 
and time of a quarter's tuition. 
You may easily overdo it ; and 
in taking the necessary steps of 
the first, second, and third posi- 
tion, it is well enough to remem- 
ber that there is a fourth step, 
& which is not to be taken — the 
_(MSl ste P fr° m the sublime to the ridi- 
g|culous. We have seen many ex- 
quisite bows, both by ladies and 
gentlemen ; but the most finishes 
performance, the most airy, ele 
gant, and altogether exquisite 
but alas ! indescribable — was that of Frederic 
Hill, twenty years ago manager of a Boston theatre 




ENTERING AND LEAVING. 401 

To be able to enter, or to leave a room. Is it so 
very easy to one who has never been taught ? You 
open the door and walk in — you stay as long as you 
wish, and then open it, and walk out again, and 
shut the door after you. My poor friend I Do 
you really think so ? Listen. You open the door, 
or more probably it is opened for you by the ser- 
vant. «If the door swings to the right, you enter 
one step with your left foot ; and if you have your 
hat, deliberately remove it. You then move one 
step to the right, leaving the left foot in its second 
position, while you take a quick but not hurried 
survey of the company. Then bringing up your 
left foot, either to the first or third position, accord- 
ing to the required formality of your salutation, you 
make one, general, careful, deliberate bow to the 
entire company, after which you advance, and make 
your particular salutations to the lady of the house, 
and to such of the persons present as require special 
notice. Now if you blunder ; if you are hurried," or 
flustered ; if you confuse this ceremony in any way, 
it shows either a want of capacity in yourself, or 
that your precious education has been neglected. 
Leaving a room is nearly a reversal of the same 
process ; but admitting of less care and formality. 
You must make a good first impression. That 
made, the rest is easy, and you retire upon your 
laurels. We tell you what you have to learn — i 
once apprized of what it is needful for you to know, 
you have only to observe those who have made man- 
ners a study. 

The English clodhopper, that type of the stupid- 
ity of a rural serfdom, dances — this free-born Eng- 
lishman — when he has the spirit to exhibit so much 
hilarity, but of the beauty of his person, the el©- 
26 



402 



THE CLODHOF, 1 



gance of his dress, or the grace of his movements, 

the reader will be per- 
mitted to form his own 
conclusions. 

The extravagances 
of a simple and grace- 
less hilarity, are often 
expressed in. rude 
dances, with people 
who jump for joy, and 
express their delight 
by strong muscular ex- 
ercises. Children and 
savages, and persons 
of an infantile nature 
and development, are 
apt to express strong 
emotions in this man- 
ner; while persons of 
a higher culture may 

be able to conceal the keenest 

emotions under a calm exterior; 

and this impassive calmness is 

considered the highest point of 

polished breeding. 

Other feelings than those of 

joy find expression in those vio- 
lent and extravagant move- 
ments which constitute a kind 

of dancing. We may dance 

with rage. A man in a fury of 

passion sometimes "jumps up 

and down," but his movements 

are not commonly regular or 

according to any rule of art. 





DISCORDANT EXPRESSIONS. 



403 



A crazy woman dances wildly, and our poets have 
given us descriptions of the dances of witches and 
demons, as well as the more beautiful creations of 
fairy laud. - 

The frenzy of the mind finds expression in the 
movements of the body ; and so do all mental con- 
ditions. Discordant people move discordantly ; 
vulgar people walk or dance with vulgarity of mo- 
tion ; while the harmonious and artistic move in 
the dance with grace and elegance. 




The prejudices against dancing, as a useful exer- 
cise, as a mode of education in the forms and graces 
of life, as a pleasing and innocent amusement, and 
even as a beautiful art, are yearly lessening. In 
New York, dancing is practiced in the houses of 
religious people of nearly all denominations, and is 
made a part of the education of their children ; and 
clergymen may often be seen at the representations 
of the ballet. Dancing, like most things, is liable 



404 



DOING THE AGREEABLE. 



to abuses, but, when carefully examined, it will 
probably be found that we have scarcely any social 
amusement, giving so much benefit and pleasure, 
with so little abuse, and even that* easily pre- 
vented. 

We have no disposition, however, to contest this 
point. We know much of the dissipation, excite- 
ment, and ennui of the life of fashion, . of which 
dancing makes a part ; still it may be reasonably 
questioned, whether this life, so bad in many re- 
spects with dancing, would be better without it. 
Let us have it an open question, for each one to 
decide according to his honest convictions. 

The dance, aside from its graceful exercises, gives 
the opportunity in its intervals for much agreeable 
and in various ways improving intercourse ; and a 
gentleman has few better opportunities of 




1)01X0 THE AGP.KEABLK, 



BALL-ROOM ETIQUETTE. 405 

Wishing to satisfy every reasonable expectation 
respecting this portion of our work, we give a few 
further suggestions, collected and condensed from 
the best authorities. Some may repeat what we 
have said already in other chapters ; but there are 
those who require "precept upon precept — here a 
little, and there a little." 

A gentleman attending a lady to the Assembly 
room, will see her to the ladies 7 dressing-room ; and 
then repair to the gentlemen's, to divest himself of 
his boots, hat, &c. ; and having adjusted his toilette 
and drawn on his gloves, will await at the portal of 
the ladies' entree saloon for the lady or ladies he 
accompanies, and usher them into the ball room. A 
gentleman may introduce his partner or the ladies 
he chaperoned to the party, to any gentlemen of 
his acquaintance, for the purpose of dancing — or, a 
gentleman may request the master of the ceremonies 
to introduce him to a lady for the same ; the re- 
quest to be accompanied (if personally unacquaint- 
ed), with his name or card. Ball room introduc- 
tions cease with the object — viz., dancing ; nor sub- 
sequently can the gentleman any where else ap- 
proach the lady by salutation, or in any other mode, 
without re-introduction of a formal character. 

After the promenade music ceases, as a prelimi- 
nary to the commencement of the dancing — the 
dancers will take their positions on the floor at the 
sound of the trumpet in the orchestra, or by the an- 
nouncement of the master of ceremonies. A gen- 
tleman attending a lady, should invariably dance 
the first set with her, and afterwards may introduce 
her to a friend for the purpose of dancing. 

Invitations to a private ball should be given and 
answered in the name of the lady. 



406 BALL-ROOM ETIQUETTE. 

At private balls the introduction through the 
medium of the master of the house, may furnish a 
guarantee to some further acquaintance ; but under 
these circumstances you must await any subsequent 
recognition to emanate from the lady, and only for- 
mally to be returned on your part. 

White gloves should be worn even in deep black 
— black being the prevailing dress color for gentle- 
men. But those in the weeds of mourning should 
avoid the ball room. 

Be extremely careful in the distribution of your 
arms and hands, leading your partner gently through 
the dance — simply touching her fingers, not rudely 
grasping her hand. Be subduedly graceful in all 
your dancing movements ; neat, but not ambitious 
of displaying your steps of elevation ; lest you be 
taken for a stage artist, aiming at effect and ap- 
plause. 

If persons are unacquainted with the figures, they 
should not attempt to dance ; it exposes their own 
awkwardness, and annoys those who do know them, 
and mars their pleasure. 

As it is considered a violation of etiquette for 
man and wife to dance together, they should avoid 
doing so. 

When a lady politely declines to dance with you, 
bear the declination with becoming grace ; and, if 
you perceive her afterwards dancing with another, 
seem not to notice it ; in these matters, ladies are 
exempt from all explanations. 

If a lady, whose hand you solicit for a set, be 
engaged, but promises afterwards to dance with 
you, carefully observe the promised time ; yielding 
to her ad interim, the most assiduous but respectful 
attentions. Women never pardon lack of courtesies 
in their cavaliers. 



BALL-ROOM ETIQUETTE. 407 

In small matters ladies more effectively reprove 
and extinguish the ill-mannered, and their vulgar 
annoyances, than gentlemen. In most cases, a 
want of decorum results from sheer ignorance of 
good breeding and silliness of mind. Be not prone 
to quarrel in the company of ladies and gentlemen ; 
but preserve the dignity of your society and your 
own. 

Be obliging to all within the quadrille you dance 
in, and insist not in remedying instanter any error 
occurring in the figure, but let the next couple in 
turn proceed with it as understood. 

On the finish of the dance, lead your partner to 
her seat ; and as the lady seats herself, gracefully 
bow to her, thank her, and offer her any service in 
your power. All this can be effected without any 
over officious bustle of attention. It is the manner 
and not the maximum of ceremony that marks the 
true gentleman. 

The notion is very generally entertained that 
dancing can be picked up by attending the balls, 
and the figures be learned from observation — a most 
absurd conclusion. The instruction of amateurs is 
even to be distrusted. 

In entering a ball room or private party, the vis- 
itor should bow to the company ; no well bred per- 
son would omit this courtesy in entering a drawing 
room, and although the entrance to a large assem- 
bly may pass unobserved by all, its observance is 
not the less necessary. It is the thoughtless ab- 
sence of good manners in all large and mixed com- 
panies, that render them so annoying and unpleas- 
ant, where the greater degree of studied politeness 
is the more indispensable. 

A few years ago, the full dress of a gentleman 



408 BALL-ROOM ETIQUETTE 

consisted of a black dress coat ; a plain white, or 
figured silk vest, buttons covered ; linen bosom, 
plaited, of very elaborate and beautiful workman- 
ship ; cravat (or dress stock) white ; wristbands 
neat and displayed below coat cuffs ; black tights, 
if your legs be symmetrical ; or, half tight dress 
trowsers, setting neat about the ankle and pump ; 
black silk stockings ; the shoes unsurpassably neat 
and luisant; tie, a small bow — a large one is a vul- 
gar display of ribbon. The fashion changes this 
slightly, but the principle remains. 

Eschew guard chains or other glaring metal ap- 
pendages festooned around the breast ; a slight gold 
chain with neat attached seal or key, is quite enough. 
A valuable gem-like pin to confine the graceful 
folds of the neck-cloth tie ; thus jewelry will have 
its ornamental, its appropriate uses. Coats of the 
fancy character and various colors, velvet collars 
and metal or glass buttons, are outre, and should be 
avoided in full dress for the opera or ball. 

The hair should be exceedingly well dressed. 
White French kid gloves, exactly fitting the hand. 

The air and manner must be perfectly unaffected. 
A person should be as much at ease, in the ball 
room as at home. What a number of sins does the 
cheerful, easy, good breeding of the French fre- 
quently cover. In mixed companies of the sexes, 
whoever is admitted to make part of them, is for 
the time at least, supposed to be on a footing of 
equality with the rest, and consequently, every one 
claims, and very justly, every mark of civility. Ease 
is allowed, but carelessness and negligence are 
strictly forbidden. 

Converse with your partner in an under tone ; 
but only furtively with any other lady while stand- 
ing up in the dance. 



THE CARNIVAL. 409 

It is not comma, il faut to engage a lady to dance 
beyond the fourth set on her list. 

Avoid all imitation of un petit maitre, or the 
Jack Pudding in your dancing — but, above all, that 
of the extravaganza and the ridiculous. Save this 
for the Carnival, when you go to Paris. 




At Paris, where every body dances, from the 
Emperor to the ragpicker ; where even the digni- 
taries of the church attend balls, except during 
Lent i where the national heart beats to dance 
music ; where, if there is a less stringent external 
morality than in England, we believe there is fully 
as much beauty and goodness of thought and life, 
and far more gayety and happiness ; at Paris, in- 
deed, you may choose your own style. 



410 BALL-ROOM ETIQUETTE. 

Etiquette is moulded in Europe by the custom of 
courts, so that the forms of politeness in each nation 
is distinct ; but, good breeding easily conforms to 
all modes with ease and grace. For instance, at 
Vienna, men always make courtesies instead of bows 
to the Emperor ; in France, nobody bows to the 
king, or kisses his hand ; but in Spain and England, 
bows are made and hands are kissed. Thus every 
court has some peculiarity, which those who visit 
them ought previously to inform themselves of, to 
avoid blunders and awkwardness. 

Ladies are advised to avoid affectation, frowning, 
quizzing, or the slightest indication of ill temper. 

Create not the heart-burning of jealousy, and 
perhaps lasting misery to yourself, by forgetting a 
lover for some newer face in a ball room. 

Indulge in no loud laughter, loud talking, staring, 
or any act which appertains to the hoyden. 

You are permitted to command the most unlim- 
ited services of your partner ; but you should im- 
pose this task upon him in such a manner as to 
make it delightful rather than onerous. 

At a private ball, lovers may dance together 
often, but not the married. 

Invitations to private balls should be given eight 
or ten days beforehand, by means of an enameled 
card, in a tasteful couleur de rose envelope, filled up 
by the pen with the name of the person, and the 
day on which the ball is to take place. Go to a 
private ball at an hour suitable to the habits of 
those who invite you. Some will expect you as 
early as seven o'clock ; others would be astonished 
if you arrived before nine. 

The lady or gentleman who give the party, (if 
dancers,) seldom participate in the dance ; for the 



THE IRISH JIG. 



411 



obvious reason, that their attentions may be bestow- 
ed on the slightest wants of their guests — the 
crowning pleasure of the host and hostess. 
) Kissing a lady's hand in public is exploded. 

Never find fault with servants in the presence of 
strangers. 

Ladies may wear gloves at all times ; gentlemen 
only in the ball room, at church, at the opera, or 
when walking or riding. 

The ladies of the family should always be assisted 
at table before a gentleman stranger, of whatever 
rank or distinction he may be. 

When requested to set next the lady of the house 
at dinner, on no account refuse. 

In every ball, public or pri- 
vate, the formality of etiquette 
is apt to be displaced, after 
supper, particularly where 
much wine is drunk, by a 
hilarity which is not so easily 
restrained within the rules 
prescribed in the manners 
books. At late hours, when 
contra dances, reels and jigs 
are introduced, the style of 
dancing naturally becomes 
"appropriate to the occasion." 
In impromptu dances, at 
public gardens, or pic nics, or 
on steamboat excursions, a 
strict etiquette is not expect- 
ed either in the dress or style 
of dancing, and one is very 
likely to correspond to the 

Other. A REAL IRISH JIG. 





412 



ENJOYMENTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE. 



And these out of door dances, where fresh air 
invites to vigorous respiration, — where the blood 
which exercise throws into the lungs, finds there its 
due proportion of purifying and vitalizing oxygen, 
if less elegant in movement and costume than the 
dances of the crowded and heated saloons of fash- 
ion, are far more healthful, and probably quite 
as agreeable. They allow of more freedom of 
action, as well as of toilette ; they partake of the 
wildness and luxuriance of nature ; and a man 
dancing on the greensward in the open air, may 
realize something of the innocent enjoyments of the 
Golden Age. 




ON THE GREEN S^ARD. 



CHAPTER XXII 



HORSEMANSHIP. 




ver nearly the whole 
world the horse is the 
friend and servant of 
man. His conquest, 
wonderful as it may 
seem to us, dates fur- 
ther back than history. 
It is not peculiar to civ- 
ilization. The wild Ca- 
manche, the Arab of 
the desert, the Tartar, 
is more at home on the 
horse than any civilized 
people, unless it be per- 
haps the trained riders 
of the circus, and few of these come up to the feats 
of our Indian warriors. 

Philosophers have objected to the unnaturalness 
of one animal riding on the back of another ; but 
though we may not think with Lady Gay Spanker, 
that a man was made expressly to fit a horse, no 
person who consi-ders the structure of that animal, 
can fail to see his adaptation to his uses. 

It was a human instinct to tame the horse and 
ride him ; it was the instinct of the horse to submit 



414 THE ART OF RIDING. 

to man, and bear him patiently and proudly. Men 
and horses, in the early stages of social experience, 
were made for each other • and it is questionable 
whether steam will ever supersede his more elegant 
uses. Steam will, to a great extent, supersede the 
use of horses in travel and transportation, and, 
perhaps, in the labors of agriculture ; but there 
may never come a time when we may not wish to 
ride on horseback, or drive in pleasure carriages. 

Riding is an art, which, under favorable condi- 
tions, requires little instruction. To ride gracefuly, 
indeed, you require to be graceful in your person 
and movements. The man who is stiff in his man- 
ners, will of course ride stiffly ; the sloven will ride 
carelessly ; an awkward man will be awkward wher- 
ever you put him ; only a man accustomed to ride 
may feel himself quite at home in the saddle, when, 
for the want of practice, he would be very awkward 
in the ball-room. 

But it should be the aim and pride of a gentle- 
man to do everything well that is worth doing at 
all ; and quite as much should this be the ambition 
of a lady. Be whatever you wish to be, and de- 
termine to accomplish everything you undertake. 

The exercise of riding is one of the most exhil- 
erating in the world. Probably no other gives so 
much benefit with so little exhaustion. To the in- 
valid and the sedentary, it is invaluable. A walk 
of a mile will often exhaust the brain more than a 
sharp ride of ten. 

The first point in riding is a good position — an 
attitude erect and easy, pliant and dignified. The 
jockey bends like a willow, ready to yield to every 
movement of the horse ; but a gentleman seems a 
part of the horse himself. The finest attitude of a 



LOUIS QUATORZE. 



415 



manly rider is shown in the engraving of a beauti- 
ful statuette of a chivalric French king, celebrated 
for his grace in equestrian exercises. He sits the 
spirited and rearing charger as easily as if he were 
in a chair, or quietly standing. He holds the 
reins in his left hand, which seems to us the only 
true method, leaving his right hand free for any 




LOUIS QUATORZE. 

action; and now it is curved upon his thigh in a 
perfectly natural position. The whole attitude is 
perfect, and gives the idea at once of all we would 
teach. And here, as in many other cases, a few 
moments' study of an artistic engraving will con- 
vey more to the reader than we could describe in 
many pages. 

When women began to ride, they rode as men do, 
in the natural manner, astride the animal. They 
still ride this way in most countries, in Tartary, in 



4lfr UNE AMAZONE. 

Turkey, in Arabia, in Peru. But when civilization 
put woman into petticoats, it was obliged to find 
her some other method of riding, and it gave her, 
first the pillion, that she might ride behind her lord 
and master — the good fashion of our grandmothers; 
and then it invented that complicated, and, per- 
haps, a little ridiculous machine, the side-saddle. 

The feminine mode of riding by the use of this 
instrument is unnatural ; it has difficulties both to 
the horse and the rider ; but, in spite of these, one 
of the most beautiful sights that the out-door world 
affords us, is that combination of graces, a beautiful 
woman on a beautiful horse. 

We give a picture of one, an artistic ideal of the 
civilized Amazon, but very elegant and truthful. 




UNE AMAZOXE. 



The erect and pliant position, the well balanced 
figure, the head thrown forward to meet the rearing 



COSTUME FOR RIDING. 417 

movement of the steed, the drapery falling in its 
superb folds from the limb whose form is in part re- 
vealed to us, give this little picture an exquisite 
grace. 

And though less natural than the masculine 
method, and naturally less safe, the side-saddle, 
when well secured, is so constructed as to enable 
the rider to retain her seat with great certainty. 
Accidents to ladies in riding are very rare ; but 
something of this is also due to the noble nature ot 
the horse, who has an instinct of gallantry which 
prompts him to be far more docile and gentle when 
driven or ridden by ladies, than by the rougher sex. 
Every person much used to horses is acquainted 
with this excellent and gentlemanly trait in their 
character. 

Riding requires a suitable costume. For gentle- 
men, the trousers have need to be well-fitting and 
of good material, and the coat short, and so cut as 
not to incommode the rider. A cap fitting the 
head, and not likely to be blown off, is also to be 
preferred to a hat, except in hot weather and for 
gentle exercises, when a light summer hat may be 
worn, if well secured. 

The ladies require a somewhat similar apparel- 
ing, but in some respects also very different. The 
Persian ladies, who ride astride, always wear trou- 
sers, with short robes or tunics, so that they are 
always prepared for this exercise. Our ladies also 
wear trousers, made very neatly of white duck, 
sometimes with straps. But in the seventeenth 
century the smart young English ladies used to ride 
astride, dressed like their fathers and brothers, in 
doeskin breeches, great coats, and flapped beavers. 
Mrs. Fanny Kemble has recently had the independ- 
27 



418 



INSTKUCTI0N3 TO LADIES. 



ence to adopt a somewhat similar costume, and U 
pursue her equestrian exercises, of which she is 
very fond, in a blouse and trousers. 

The skirts of a lady's riding habit are made long, 
full, heavy, and are often loaded to keep them in 
place ; but to compensate for this feminine excess 
on the one hand, the upper part of the dress is 
made as masculine as possible. There is either a 
close corsage in the military style, or a rolling col- 
lar and vest, with a masculine hat or cap, with the 
addition perhaps of a vail or feather. The ladies 
even wear smart little neck stocks and standing 
collars. 

As our gentlemen are presumed to be adepts in 

this manly art; as 
they doubtless 
know all about 
horses and their 
management, and 
are capital riders, 
we shall give our 
present hints and 
instructions chiefly 
to the ladies, who 
may not be so well 
informed. Besides, gentlemen can better profit in 
the school of experience ; and if an awkward rider 
finds himself in the position of John Gilpin, it is not 
so much matter, though a lady would find it a very 
awkward affair ; and taking a flying leap over a 
hedge in this fashion, though very spirited for a 
masculine sportsmen, would not answer at all for a 
lady. To prevent such catastrophes to any of the 
gentle sex who may deign to follow our suggestions, 
we will give a few hints that may be useful, with 




THE RIDING DRESS. 419 

Biich instructions as gentlemen may need m doing 
their devoirs as gallant cavaliers. But not in too 
cavalier a fashion; for it is to be observed that 
when a lady has donned any costume so masculine 
as the fashionable riding dress, she becomes mar- 
vellously independent and heroic, and is apt to care 
much less than usual for us who assume to be 
"lords of creation." 

Perhaps there is nothing in which women mo.re 
show their tact and adaptedness to all positions, 
than in their love and aptitude for horsemanship. 
It gives them an added strength, and a feeling of 
equality. A woman on a strong, fleet horse, feels 
also strong and fleet, and equal to any emergency. 

It is an exercise well adapted to call forth the 
admiration of the other sex when performed with 
skill, and ' the women of this country need an exer- 
cise and employment, which will give them more 
health, courage, and self-reliance; and though the 
admirers of womanly delicacy, and the charming 
effeminacy of helplessness and disease, may object 
to those public exhibitions of horse womanship, 
which have become popular in many parts of our 
country, it will be generally conceeded, that their 
benefit is greater than any evil they are likely to 
produce. Our women, of all classes, the poor as 
well as the rich, need vigorous out door exercise. 
The wives and daughters of our farmers often have 
too little, and seldom mount a horse, or even take 
a good walk. 

English, and most other European women are 
good walkers, and think little of five or six miles ; 
but in the beginning, the more passive exercise of 
riding on horseback would be better for many than 
long walks. 



*20 

The lady's right hand is the whip hand ; the left 
is the bridle hand. The near side of the horse is 
the left side, the side on which a lady rides, and on 
which everybody mounts. 

The height of a horse is measured at the shoulder, 
in hands of four inches. 

The beau ideal of a lady's horse is described as 
superlatively elegant in form, exquisitely fine in coat, 
and unexceptionably beautiful in color ; of a height 
in the nicest degree appropriate to the figure of the 
rider ; graceful, accurate, well-united, and tho- 
roughly safe in every pace ; " light as a feather" in 
the hand, though not at all painfully sensitive to a 
proper action of the bit ; bold in the extreme, yet 
superlatively docile ; free in every respect from what 
is technically denominated "vice ;" excellent in tem- 
per, but still " though gentle, yet not dull f rarely, 
if ever, requiring the stimulus of the whip, yet sub 
mitting temperately to its occasional suggestions. 

In some, though not in all respects, the form 
should approach closely to that of a thorough-bred 
animal. The head should be small, neat, "well- 
set" on the neck, and gracefully "carried." The 
nostrils should be wide ; the eyes large, rather pro- 
truding, dark, yet brilliant ; the ears erect, and deli- 
cately tapering towards their tips. The expression 
of the countenance should be lively, animated, no- 
ble, and most highly intelligent ; the neck rather 
arched and muscular ; the ridge of the shoulders 
narrow and elevated ; the chest full and fleshy; the 
back broad ; the body round or barrel-like ; the 
space between the hips and tail long, and very 
gradually depressed towards that organ, which, it 
is essential,, should be based high on the croup. 
The fore and hind limbs should be distant, the one 



DRESS. 421 

pair from the other; the "arms" muscular; the 
knees broad, the hocks (laterally) wide ; the legs 
flat and sinewy ; the pasterns rather long ; and the 
hoofs large and nearly round. 

His size and height should compare well with 
that of his rider. One would not put a little dumpy 
woman (if there are any such',) on a tall gaunt 
horse, nor vice versa. He should be perfect in his 
paces ; walk well, canter lightly ; and now, that 
trotting is the fashion, he must trot fast and stead- 
ily. He should be absolutely safe from stumbling. 
A stumbling horse is not safe riding for any, and no- 
body should risk her neck upon one. A horse that 
shies, or springs suddenly sideways, is unsafe ; a 
hard bitted one is unpleasant. 

A lady's riding dress is very plain, and free from 
ornament ; usually black or dark green ; of woollen 
stuff, and close-fitting to the bust ; the gloves should 
be strong buff leather, coming up well upon the 
wrist ; the whip light and plain. 

See that the saddle does not hurt or gall the 
horse, and that it is firmly secured for the safety of 
the rider. Every lady who rides should understand 
the construction and fastenings of her horse's equip- 
ments as well as she does her own ; and be able, in 
case Of necessity, to bridle and saddle her horse for 
herself. The dependence upon men for every ser- 
vice of this kind is ridiculous. When they are 
about, make them useful, but be able to do without 
them when needful. 

A lady can scarcely be expected to have the 
agility to mount her horse from the ground, without 
assistance ; though, with a well trained horse, she 
may readily mount from the steps or horse-block. 
But the best horse-block is a beau who has a strong 



422 ' DISMOUNTING. 

back, and understands his duty ; and a sensible la<3^ 
will have no other. 

The lady places herself with her back to the near 
side of the horse ; the reins gathered in her right 
hand, with which she also grasps the rear crutch of 
the saddle. The gentleman, standing before her, 
stoops down, and clasping his hands, offers them as 
a stirrup ; she puts her left foot into his hands, and 
her left hand upon his right shoulder ; then holding 
herself firmly, she allows herself to be raised into 
her seat, and places her right leg in the crutch of 
the saddle. The gentleman then holds the stirrup, 
and makes it of the proper length, which is when it 
falls just below the ankle bone. 

A lady learns first to ride without a stirrup ; 
which is the proper way for both sexes. When the 
foot is in the stirrup, the heel is a little lower than 
the toes. 

When a gentleman rides with a lady, he would 
naturally take the left or near side, as better able 
to protect her, and converse with her ; but as his 
horse may rub against her, or spatter her dress, it 
is customary for him to ride on the off side ; and 
whatever ladies might prefer, they always do prefer 
what is the fashion. 

In dismounting, the lady takes the reins in the 
right hand as before ; takes her knee from the 
crutch, her foot from the stirrup, and seeing that 
her clothes are clear, either springs lightly to her 
feet, or into the arms of a gentleman, ready to re- 
ceive her, or puts her hand on his shoulder, and so 
jumps to the ground. 

The beauty of riding is to command your horse 
as if he were a part of yourself ; to accommodate 
yourself to his movements, and make him suit your 



POSITION IN THE SADDLE. 423 

own purposes. A gentle, spirited, intelligent horse 
needs neither curb, nor whip, nor spur. He should 
understand the slightest movement of the rider, and 
at a word, or even a slight movement of the hand, 
amble, trot, or gallop, retard, or stop. A well- 
trained horse feels the least change of the bit, Or 
obeys the mere inclination of the hand, bearing the 
rein against his neck. 

The rider should always maintain a firm seat, so 
as not to be thrown by any accident ; he should 
also have the coolness and presence of mind to 
clear his feet from the stirrups, and himself from 
the horse, should he slip or stumble and fall. 

A lady must sit so as to bear her weight on the 
center of the saddle, so as to carry her shoulders 
square with the horse, and well back, in order to 
give the chest its finest expansion. Carry the 
elbows near the body, but not too stiffly. In any 
situation, carrying the elbows out, and at a sharp 
angle, is ungraceful, and in some very inconvenient. 

A gentleman is not to bend his knees too much, 
nor to keep them straight. Let the legs hang by 
the side of the horse, with the toes but slightly, if 
at all, turned out. The nearer the feet hang in a 
perpendicular line from the head, without constraint, 
the better. Gentlemen commonly carry the ball of 
the foot in the stirrup, but in rough riding they let 
it find its place in the hollow of the foot. In nei- 
ther sex, is the stirrup intended to support much of 
the weight of the rider ; and particularly in the 
side-saddle, where the rider is to depend neither on 
the crutch nor the stirrup, except as aids and safe- 
guards. When a lady, while her horse is in a smart 
trot, can look over on the right side far enough to 
see her horse's shoe, she is well in her seat. 



424 MANAGEMENT OF THE HORSE. 

A gentleman maintains his seat chiefly by the 
grip of his knees. Probably the best riding school 
is the one almost every country boy gets good prac- 
tice in, riding bare-back, and often without any 
bridle. The feats of the Indians, and their imita- 
tions in our circus companies, show what can be 
done in horsemanship. It is good practice for a 
lady to ride for a time without touching reins or 
stirrup ; to get the proper balance of a firm seat, 
and to be able to lean forward or back, or to either 
side, anticipating and meeting every movement of 
the animal. 

When a horse runs, keep as cool as possible : 
avoid being brushed off under trees, or against posts; 
bend well at sharp turns, so as not to be flung off, 
and prepare for a sudden stop when he approaches 
any obstruction. If you are certain that you can- 
not keep your seat, free yourself from the stirrup 
and crutch, so as neither to hang by the foot nor 
drag by the dress, and land in as soft a place as you 
can find. But in riding on horseback, as Well as in 
carriages, it is safest to not give up the ship. 

Treat your horse like a reasonable being, as he 
is, and respect his rights, which, as far as they ex- 
tend, are as much to be respected as your own. 
Carry a steady even hand with him, and let him 
know what he has to depend upon. Do not urge a 
generous animal to too great exertion ; nor is it 
well to let him grow too careless in his paces. 

When a horse rears, give him a slack rein, and 
meet him by leaning forward, otherwise the horse 
may be pulled over on his rider. A horse cannot 
plunge or kick up, if his head is held in a proper 
position. 

When a horse is frightened at any object, the 



HORSEMANSHIP. 425 

way to impress the terror firmly is to whip him 
for it. If soothed and encouraged to examine the 
object, his fears will be removed. But there are 
horses of a high nervous temperament and vivid 
imagination, that are never safe for a moment. We 
have had such a one, springing side-way across the 
road, quick as a flash, a dozen times during an 
hour's ride. Such a horse is, of course, unsuited to 
a lady. 

Sawing the mouth, or pulling alternately on each 
rein, will often compel a runaway horse to stop, 
when a steady pull on the bit only seems to aid his 
speed. So letting the reins loose a moment and 
suddenly pulling up, may stop him, but so suddenly 
as to throw the rider, if not well prepared. 

Practice, and an attention to the principles of a 
graceful deportment, will soon perfect you in all the 
excellences of horsemanship. 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 

ery good reasons might be 
given, why every young person 
who has time and opportunity, 
should study some of the mod- 
ern languages, besides his mo- 
ther tongue. The young read- 
er may not see the necessity or 
use of such an acquisition. He 
is apt to look upon it as a mere 
accomplishment, having no real 
value, unless he should chance 
^^ to travel in foreign parts, where, 
of course, some knowledge of the language of the 
country would be useful, though even then, not ab- 
solutely indispensable, since there are to be found 
persons speaking English on all the great routes of 
European travel. 

But the study of languages has other and higher 
uses, than to enable a man to order a dinner, or 
inquire his way on a journey. Language is a science, 
like music, and each tongue has its own peculiar 
character. In acquiring a language, we learn more 
of the true character of the people, by whom it has 
been created, and of whom it is the expression, than 
we could acquire by any other method. In fact, 
we do not understand the moral and intellectual 




FRENCH LANGUAGE. 427 

character of any people until we know their forms 
of speech. In talking French, we become French- 
men ; the German language transforms us into Ger- 
mans ; and in reading Latin and Greek, we find 
ourselves in a close sympathy with the heroes and 
poets of antiquity. 

Our own language, moreover, being compounded 
largely of the Greek, Latin, French, and German, 
we must understand its nicest shades of meaning 
better, for knowing the origin of so many of its 
words. 

We strongly advise the young reader, of either 
sex, who has some time left for intellectual culture, 
to devote a portion of it to the acquisition of lan- 
guages. It is well to begin with the Latin. At- 
tack the grammar heroically, and learn it thorough- 
ly. A few lessons in the usual pronunciation, from 
any scholar in your neighborhood, if your book 
does not contain the rules, will be all you will need. 
Keep to the good rule, of never turning to page 
second until you have mastered page first, so thor- 
oughly, that if the page were obliterated, you 
would still have it in your mind. 

The pronunciation of the Latin varies in different 
countries, because, being a dead language, its 
actual sound is not known. In England and the 
United States, many scholars sound the vowels a, 
e, and i, according to the English usage ; but others 
follow the fashion of the continent, which is to 
sound a as in ah, e like a in fate, and i like ee. 

Though Latin is the learned language, in which, 
but a few years since, all books of science, philoso- 
phy, law, medicine, and divinity were written ; the 
scholars of different nations, though reading these 
works with facility, could not understand each other 
when reading aloud or in conversation. 



428 FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 

The Greek is accounted the most perfect, noble, 
and beautiful language that ever gave expression to 
human thought. It is therefore worth knowing, .if 
it held no treasures of poetry and eloquence. 

Of modern languages, the most useful, the most 
indispensable, is the French. In England, every 
educated person reads, and in some fashion speaks 
it. It is the universal language of civilized diplo- 
macy — the language of all courts and polished so- 
ciety. Go to Russia, and every educated person 
speaks French. The books and newspapers are 
French. Through Germany, Italy, and Spain, 
French is spoken everywhere. It serves you in 
Mexico and South America. 

A young man can aspire to no diplomatic ap- 
pointment unless he is a thorough French scholar ; 
at least he cannot fill such a post with justice to his 
government or satisfaction to himself; and now that 
all nations intermingle more and more, there be- 
comes every year a greater need of some common 
vehicle of thought ; and this common language, by 
common consent, is the French. You can scarcely 
read a page hi a book or a column in a newspaper, 
without encountering some French word or phrase. 
The descriptions of works of art, musical criticisms, 
and even the reports of fashions, are full of them. 
In the glossary of musical terms given in our chap- 
ter on music, about two-thirds are Italian, and the 
rest French. 

We had a motive for giving that little dictionary 
of phrases then and there, besides that of making 
the reader and student acquainted with the techni- 
calities of musical scieuce. We knew very well 
that if he had never studied the pronunciation of 
foreign tongues, he would not be able to use one in 



FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 429 

ten of those words and phrases. We were willing 
to present the difficulty before giving him the 
means of overcoming it. 

We will begin with the pronunciation of the 
French language, as the most common, the most 
useful, and at the same time the most difficult — yet, 
it must be confessed, a hundred times less difficult 
than our own strong but irregular tongue. The 
French has a few difficult peculiarities — difficult to 
us ; but when these are overcome, the language is 
simple, easy, and uniform; not as in English, where 
the same collection of letters, ough, for example, 
may be pronounced six different ways — though, 
plough, through, tough, cough, hough. No; the 
French has nothing like this. 

It is difficult — it is not always possible to give 
the sounds of one language in the written charac- 
ters of another. The French alphabet is the same 
as ours in appearance ; but some of these characters 
indicate a widely different sound. We shall ap- 
proximate to the French sounds as nearly as possi- 
ble — near enough for you to be perfectly well under- 
stood ; as near as you are likely to get by any 
method whatever ; for as you seldom hear a French- 
man pronouncing English perfectly, or like a native, 
they ought not to, and do not, expect perfection in 
us. And there probably never was a Frenchman or 
French woman who ever laughed at any blunder of 
a foreigner in speaking, though ever so gross or lu- 
dicrous. Whatever faults the French may have, 
they have the great virtue of politeness. 

In French, as in the other languages of conti- 
nental Europe, the vowel a is sounded ah. La is 
lah ; sa is sah ; as in our word father. Pa and 
ma are French words, except when they are flat- 



430 FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 

tened. - The a alone is never sounded as in fate, pa- 
tience ; that sound being expressed by its propef 
diphthong, or combination of ah and ee — that is, 
by ai. 

I in French is always like long e, as in me, as 
we pronounce it in our words of French origin, ma- 
chine, pique. In the first syllable of machine, we 
should preserve also the French sound, as if spelt 
mah-sheen, not may-sheen. 11 in French is eel. 
When shortest, it is still long. A Frenchman does 
not readily learn to say pin ; it is always peen. 

Here are two of the fundamental sounds, the 
same in French, Italian, Spanish, and German. 

O has nearly the same sound as its two simple 
ones in English, in no and not, and is sometimes 
sounded like u in but, nearly ; as in votre, your, 
which is almost vutre. 

We have deferred the E to nearly the last place. 
As a general rule, in French, Spanish, Italian, and 
German, E has the first or English sound of a, as in 
fate. But in French we have four e's of varying 
powers. Thus we have e, simple and unaccented, 
before a consonant, as in et, and ; est, is ; which 
words have the sound of a or ay. 

Thus 6 (acute accent) is like a in fate, or ey in 
prey ; e (grave accent) like a, with the mouth more 
open ; nearly like ai in pair ; e (circumflex accent) 
■a in fate, open and long. 

E, followed by a consonant in the same syllable, 
is always a, as in fate. 

E, unaccented, ending a syllable, has a guttural 
sound, like er in her, or ur in fur ; or it is silent. 

Thus le, the, is pronounced luh ; de, of, is duh, or 
der without sounding the r. 

U, in French, has no similar sound in English 



FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 431 

Place jour lips as if to say 0, or to whistle ; then 
Bay E, and you produce a rounded, peculiar sound, 
between e and o, which is the French u; thus du, 
of the, is more like dee than dew ; but if you say 
dee, protruding the lips, as if to say oo, you will get 
it as nearly as it can be given, without a teacher. 

Y has the sound of ee. 

These are the principal sounds of the vowels. 
Fix them carefully in the mind. Thus the word 
amitie, friendship, is pronounced ah-mee-tee-ay', with 
a slight stress on the last syllable. Le pere, the 
father, is luh payr. Remember, in their simplest 
combinations, a is ah ; e is a, or uh, as we pronounce 
the in singing, before a consonant ; i is ee ; o is o ; 
u is a compound of ee and oo ; y is ee. 

Having fixed this thoroughly, so as never to pro- 
nounce a, e or i as in English ; but always as ah, 
ay, ee ; we will go on to the combinations of vow- 
els and consonants. The first difficulty is the French 
nasals. When n or m ends a syllable, or is not 
joined to a following vowel, the sound is peculiar. 
When you say an or on in English, the sound is 
stopped in the mouth by the tongue, and is finished 
in the nose. This is a real nasal sound. The 
French nasal is less so. Say an, on, un, without 
letting the tongue stop the sound, and you have the 
true sounds ; or say ang, ong, ung, without sound- 
ing the g. 

Bon vin, good wine, is bong- vang-; the sound 
coming freely through nose and mouth, and the 
guttural sound or stopping of g, not made at all. 
Am, om, &c, all have the same sounds, Un and 
urn, have nearly the sound of a grunt ; or of. xmg, 
not sounding the g. 

We may now give the vowel combinations. 



432 FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 

a has the sound of ah, as in far. 

an and am, sound like on^-, without the g. 

ai, like a in fate, or ai in bait. 

aw, like o, as ilfaut, eel fo, it is necessary. 

ain, aim, like ang- in hang, without the g. 

e, (unaccented) is silent, or like ur, in fur, with- 
out sounding the r. 

6, e, e 4 , vary the sound of a in fate, or ey in prey. 

er, el, est, et, es, ei, all sound like a in fate — that 
is, the consonants are not sounded at all ; thus et — 
and, is ay ; est — is, is ay ; les — plural the, is lay, &c. ; 
but er in the middle of a word, and at the end of 
hier — yesterday, and mer — sea, has the sound of air, 
being pronounced he-air, mair. 

en, era, — have the sound of ong, the mouth but 
little opened. 

eau, — has the sound of o, as in beau. 

eu, and eux, — sound like ur, in fur, like e mute. 

in, im, — have the nasal sound of ang\ 

ien — sounds like ee-ang-; thus, bien, good, is bee- 
an^g-; not two syllables, but the sounds gliding into 
each other. 

ieu — combines ee and ur, as Dieu — God, pro- 
nounced dee-ur ; lieu, place, lee-ur. 

ou — sounds as in you, or like oo ; thus pour, for, 
is like poor, but not so open. 

on, om — nasal sound of ong. 

oi — has the sound nearly of wa in water ; as in 
soir, evening, swor ; roi, king, rwa, the a broad, as 
in fall ; bois, wood, is bwa. 

03U — sounds like ur in fur, or mute e ; as vceux, 
wishes, prouounced vur, or vuh. 

our — sounds as in your. 

oui — has the sound of we, or ooee. 

un — like un in hundred, or nng. 



FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 433 

uan — has the sound of ong. 

ue — sounds like u in fur. 

ui — is commonly we, sometimes ee, as qui, who, 
pronounced kee. 

Fix these sounds in the mind carefully, and by 
abundant repetition, so that i will represent ee, and 
e represent &, and so on. Practice well the nasals, 
in, im, which sound like ang ; en, em ; an, am ; on, 
om ; which all sound nearly like ong; an being a 
little broader than en ; on, rounder ; then un, often 
used, comes very near a grunt, m\g. Practice these 
and the French u until they become familiar. 

The consonants require but few observations. 
They have, with few exceptions, the same sound as 
in English. 

C is like s in the same places, and also before a or 
o, printed with the cedilla, thus 9, as facade, fah- 
sahd, the front of an edifice ; garcon, gar-song - , boy ; 
in second, c sounds like g, suh-gono\ 

D before a vowel has often the sound of t, as re*- 
pond-on ? answer they ? pronounced ray-pon^-tong-. 

F is generally soft, as in vif, quick, pronounced 
veef ; in ueuf, nine, the f has the sound of v before 
a vowel, but otherwise is silent ; thus neuf enfants, 
nine children, is nuh-vong-fong' ; but neuf gants, nine 
gloves, is nuh-gong'. 

G is hard, like gag in gai, gay, merry ; but soft, 
like zh in visage, vee-zahj, face ; rage, rahj, anger. 

H is never forcibly aspirated as in English ; a 
Frenchman learns our use of it with much effort. It 
is generally silent at the beginning of a word, and 
when not, is very slightly sounded. 

J usually has the sound of zh, as Je, J, pro- 
nounced zhur, not sounding the r, or zhuh; dejeuner, 
day-zhur-nay, breakfast ; jour, zhoor, day. 
28 



434 FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 

Q sounds like k, and the u following is seldom 
sounded, as que, kuh, that ; quoi, kwoh, what. 

R is sounded more fully than is usual in English, 
with a rolling and even a trilling sound. 

S at the beginning of a word has its hissing 
sound ; in the middle it is generally like z ; but if 
double, it is sharp ; it is like z in plaisir, play-zeer, 
pleasure ; maison, may-zong, house ; but sharp in 
consoler, cong-so-lay, to comfort ; and in poisson, 
pwah-song, fish ; while poison, poison, is pronounced 
pwah-zong. S at the end of a word, when joined to 
the next, beginning with a vowel, generally has the 
sound of z, as Je vous aime, zhurvoozaim, I love 
you ; Je vous adore, zhurvoozah-dore, I adore you. 

T in the middle of a word has often the sound 
of s ; as nation, pronounced nah-see-ong' '. 

X sounds like ks in extreme ; and like g in ex- 
amine', eg-zah-mee-nay. 

Some combinations of consonants must be con- 
sidered with attention. 

ch is like sh, as in chaise. 

gn sounds softer, as in mignionette, pronounced 
meen-yon-et. 

th has always the sound of t, as theatre, tay~ 
ah-tr. 

ill has the liquid sound heard in seraglio ; thus 
fille, daughter, is pronounced feel-yer, or still softer, 
fee-yer • bouillir, to boil, is bool-yeer ; letting the 
tongue glide softly over the 1, or leaving it almost 
silent. 

ble, bre, fre, tre, &c, have the sound of bl, br, fr, 
the e being silent. When these terminations occur, 
the stress, which can scarcely be called accent, falls 
on the preceding syllable ; as aimable, amiable, pro- 
nounced ay-niah'-bl ; fenetre, window, pronounced 
fvJi-nay'-lr. 



FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 435 

Nearly all the consonants are silent at the end of 
words ; but c,*f, 1, q, r, are generally articulated. 

In French words, each syllable is to be pro- 
nounced with nearly the same stress of voice, not 
with the strong English accentuation ; but in most 
words, a little stress falls on the last syllable, unless 
that has a silent e, when it falls on the preceding. 

Syllables are made differently in French and 
English. In French, the syllable beginning with a 
consonant terminates with the vowel ; if with the 
vowel, it ends with the next consonant. The differ- 
ence will be best known by comparing the different 
pronunciations of words, which are the same in 
both languages. 

English. French. Pronounced. 

Cab-i-net, Ca-bi-net, Kah-bee-nay'. 

Char-i-ta-ble, Cha-ri-ta-ble. Shah-ree-tah'-bl. 

Bar-on-age, Ba-ro-nage, Bah-ro-nahzh'. 

So the word avidity, in French is pronounced 
ah-vee-dee-tay' . 

Have great care, therefore, not to sound the 
vowels as in English, nor several of the consonants; 
to avoid much accent — that is, to give nearly the 
same stress- to every syllable, giving the stress as 
directed above, and you will soon overcome most 
of the difficulties of pronouncing the language. 

Let us try. Bon jour, Monsieur, (pronounced 
bong- zhoor, mos-yur.) Good morning, sir. 

Comment vous portez vous ? (com-mong- voo' pore- 
tay voo) how you carry you? or how do you do? 

Je suis charme de vous voir ; (zhur swee sharnmy 
duh voo vwor) I am charmed of you to see — to see 
you. 

Je vous prie, (zhur voo pree) I pray you. 



436 FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 

Donnez moi (donay mowa) give me. 

Du pain (du French u> pang-) som£ bread. 

SHI vous plait (seel vous play) if you please. 

The apostrophe in sHl marks the absence of the i 
in si, if, as two i's cannot well be pronounced to- 
gether. So in le, la, the, de, of, the e is omitted be- 
fore a vowel or silent h, as, Veau, (lo) the water ; 
Vhonneur (lon-ur) honor ; gaged 1 amour (gahzh duh- 
moor) token of love ; m'amie (mah-mee) for ma 
amie, my love. 

We will give a few familiar phrases, which it will 
be useful to know ; and still better to be able to 
pronounce. After committing them to memory, the 
student will be able to read French with little diffi- 
culty. It will be observed that though in most 
words, ending with a consonant, that consonant is 
silent, it is, in forming sentences, generally joined to 
the next word, if it begins with a vowel, as 

Je vous en conjure, (zhur voo zong- kong-zhure) I 
you of it (en) entreat, that is, I conjure you. 

Apportez moi, (ap-pore-tay mwa) bring me. 

Pretez moi, (pray-tay mwa) lend me. 

Ma chere, (mah shair) my dear. — feminine ; the 
masculine, applied to males, is mon cher, (mon^shair.) 

In French there is no neuter gender. Everything 
is either masculine or feminine, requiring corres- 
ponding pronouns, articles, adjectives, &c. Thus I 
say un bouton (nng boo-tong-) a bud, — masculine ; 
but une Jkur (une French u — flur) a flower, femi- 
nine ; so it would be le bouton, lajleur; mon bouton, 
majleur, son bouton (song — his) sa fleur (sah, her) 
and so on. So mon petit mignon (mong perty mee- 
nyong-) my little darling, a male, is, when applied 
to a female, ma petite mignonne, (mah per-teet mee- 
nyonn) all the words being changed by the gender, 
both in spelling and pronunciation. 






FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 43T 

Je vous remercie (zhuh voo ruh-mair-see') I thank 
you. 

De tout mon cazur, (duh too mong- cur,) with all 
my heart. 

Je vous suis oblige (zhuh voo swee zo-blee-zhay') 
I to you am obliged. 

Voire tres humble serviteur (votre tray zumg--bl 
sair-vee-tur') your very humble servant. 

Vous etes trop obligeant, (voo zait tro o-blee-zhong J ) 
you are too obliging. 

Que soukaitez-vous? (kuh soo-ay-tay voo) what 
wish you — what will you please to have ? 

Sans ceremonie (song say-ray-mo-nee,) without 
ceremony. 

Apres vous, Monsieur (ah-pray' voo, mos-yur,) 
after you, sir. 

Vous avez raison, (voo zah-vay ray-zon^-) you 
have reason — you are right. 

11 est vrai (eel ay vray) it is true. 

Est-il vrai? (ay-teel vray?) is it true ? 

11 n'est que trop vrai, (eel nay kuh tro vray) it not 
is but too true. 

Ne (nuh) pas (pah) together make the common 
French negation ; as Je suis fzhuh sweej lam; Je 
ne suis pas, fzhuh nuh swee pahj I am not ; but we 
also have ne — point fnuh — pooang-J a stronger ne- 
gation, equivalent to "not at all," and ne — que — 
not but, as above. 

Qui en doute ? (kee ox\g dootj who it doubts ? 

II n!y a point de doute, feel ne ah pooang- duh 
doot ,) it not there (y) has (a) nothing of doubt — 
there is no doubt. 

Je croi qu'oui, — fzhuh krwoh kweej qu 1 is que — I 
believe but yes — I believe so. 

Je crois que non, (zhuh krwoh kuh non^J I be- 
lieve not. * 



438 FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 

Sur ma vie, (soor mall vee) upon my life. 

Croyez-moi (krwoh-yay lnwok) believe me. 

Je puis vous assurer, (zhuh pwee voo zah-su-ray) 
I can you assure — assure you. 

Parlezvous Frangaisel (par-lay voo Prong-say?) 
speak you French ? 

J' en parte un peu, (zhong- pari ung puh) I speak 
a little. 

Oui, madame, (wee, mah-dahni') yes, madam. 

Non, mademoiselle, (nong- mahd-mwa-zer) no, miss. 

Monjils, (moug feess) my son. 

Mafille, (mah feel-yuh, or fee-yer) my daughter. 

Je dis tout de Ion, (zhuh dee too'd boug) I speak 
all of good — I speak truly. 

Je vous en crois, (zhuh voo zong krwa) I you of 
it believe — I believe you. 

Oest impossible! (say tano--po-see'-bl) this is im- 
possible — Jest for ce, this, est, is. 

Cela est faux, (slah ay fo) mat is false. 

Quefaut-il faire ? (kuh fo teel fair?) what must 
it — or is it necessary to do ? 

Que ferons nous ? (kuh fuh-rong- noo) what do 
we — what shall we do ? 

Arretez un peu (ah-ray-tay \mg puh or pur ) hold 
a little. 

Laissez-moi faire (lay-say mwa-fayre) leave me 
do — let me alone. 

C'est la meme chose, (say lah mame shoze) it is the 
same thing. 

Jaifaim, (zhay fang- J I have — Je ai — hunger. 

J'ai grand f aim, (zhay grong- fang-J I have great 
hunger. 

Que voulez-vous manger ? (kuh voo-lay voo mon^ 
zhay ?) what will you eat ? 

Donnez moi quelque chose a manger, (do-nay-mwol 



FRENCH PRONUNCIATION. 439 

kelk shoze ah mong--zhay) give me something to 
eat. 

In these examples we have given the pronuncia- 
tion as nearly as we can by English letters. Doe- 
nay is not exact. The first syllable is between doe 
and do in done ; still doe is as near as we can ex- 
press it ; nez is nearest like nay, but a little softer, 
or like ney. The student must do the best he can, 
and coming so near, he by his own ear will perfect 
himself ; besides, Frenchmen do not all speak alike, 
more than we. 

Donnez-moi quelque chose a manger, (do-nay mwa 
kelk shoze ah mon^-zhay) give me something to eat. 

J'ai assez mange, (zhay ah-say mon^-zhay) I have 
enough eaten. 

Je n'ai flus d'appetit, (zhuh nay plu dah-puh-tee) 
I have not more of appetite. 

J J ai soif, (zhay swof) I have thirst. 
. Donnez-moi a boire, (do-nay mwa ah bwor) give 
me to drink. 

Buvez done, (bu-vay donk) drink then. 

J J ai assez bit (zhay ah-say bu — French u, and 
long) I have enough drunk. 

We have given so many examples, that our read- 
ers may proceed with the study of the language. 

Now let us turn back to the musical dictionary 
on page 363. The first phrase on this page is a 
aplomb, pronounced ah plong-; then comes a quatre 
mains, ah kahtr mang-; chanson, is shong--song- ; 
divertisement, is dee-vair-teez-mong - . The word in- 
tonation is either English or French, but the French 
pronunciation is very different from the English ; it 
is ang-to-nah-see-ong\ Liason is a frequently occur- 
ring French word, and is pronounced lee-ah-zong\ 

But the student who has carefully studied the 



440 ITALIAN LANGUAGE. 

lessons we have given, will find little difficulty in 
pronouncing any French word or phrase, or even of 
reading a French book with some degree of cor- 
rectness. 

When the French has been mastered, the Italian 
is easy, being more simple and regular. Each 
vowel in Italian has its sound, and forms a separate 
syllable. There are few or no silent letters. A is 
always ah ; i is ee ; e is ay ; o has its pure open 
sound ; and u the sound of oo, both in Italian and 
Spanish. Che, which in French would be shay, in 
Italian is kay. Ci is chee. 

Thus, in our musical dictionary aria buff a is ah- 
ree-ah boof-fah ; aria di bravura, is ah'-ree-ah dee 
brah-voo'-rah ; ave Maria, is ah'-vay Mah-ree'-ah ; 
cantatrice is can-tah-tree'-chay ; capriccio is cah-pree'- 
che-oh ; con gusto is con goos'-to ; dolce is dole'-tshay ; 
mezzo is mait'zo ; pizzicato is peet-zee-cah'-to ; and 
so on. 

Che, chi, are pronounced kay, key ; gl is sounded 
like y ; gn before a vowel or diphthong has the 
ringing sound of ing ; z in the beginning or middle 
of words is sounded like ts or ds ; as tersetto, third, 
is pronounced ter-dset ; -to. No language, unless it 
be some of the dialects of the South Sea Islands, 
is so soft and musical as the Italian — which, en pas- 
sant, you must not call eye-tal-yun, but ee-tahP- 
yan. 

The Spanish language is next to the French in 
importance, on this hemisphere, which is in nearly 
half its extent peopled with the descendants of 
Spanish colonists. In a few years, we have annexed 
large tracts of country, where this sonorous and 
beautiful language is spoken ; and in the future, it 
6eems probable that we shall be brought into inti- 



SPANISH LANGUAGE. 441 

mate relations with much more. The language is 
also worth studying- for its own merits of richness 
and beauty, and for the treasures of genius which 
it unlocks. 

The Spanish alphabet is like the English, without 
any k or w, and with few modifications of its simple 
sounds. Each letter has a distinct power of its 
own, and must be sounded. The names by which 
the Spanish letters are designated will give some 
idea of their powers. We give a few examples, in 
which they vary from the Erench or English. The 
vowels are 

A E I o tr. 

ah ay ee o oo. 

Of the consonants which vary from the English 
sound, there are 

C, prorounced like k before a, o, u, but before e 
or i, like th; thus ce is pronounced thay ; ci is thee, 
with the sharp sound as in think. 

Ch has the sound of ch in church. 

D has a soft sound, approaching to t. 

G is hard, as in gap, except before e, i, when it 
has the sound of h in hill : thus ge is pronounced 
hay ; gi is he. 

iiZ"is never sounded. 

J" is always sounded like h in hand ; thus ja, jt, 
ji, jo, ju, are pronounced hah, hay, hee, ho, hoo. 

LI, double Z. is sounded like 11 in William. 
' ^ as in opinion ; like n, followed by a y ; or the 
gn, in Erench. 

Q is used only before u, where the u is not 
sounded, and has the power of k; as que, kay ; qui, 
kee. Words like question are spelled with a c, as 
Question. 



442 SPANISH PRONUNCIATION. 

R is soft ; but at the beginning of words, and 
before I, n, s, and when written double, it has the 
rolling sound, heard in the French. 

S has always its sharp hissing sound. 

Z is like th in thin — as 

Za, 2k, Zi, Zo, Zu. 

thah, thay, thee, tho, thoo. 

Here are the principles : we give a few examples, 
as in French, to enable the reader to attack the 
language with courage, and which he will find very 
easy, particularly if he knows something of Latin, 
which both this and the Italian much resemble. 

Buenos dias, senor (boo-ay'-nos dee'-as, sain-yor'), 
good day, sir. 

Buenas tardes, senor a (boo-ay'-nas tar-dais, sain- 
yo'-ra), good afternoon, madam. 

Felizes noches, senorita (fay-lee'-thais no'-chais, 
sain-yo-ree'-tah), good evening, miss. 

I Como lo pasa V.l (Co'-mo lo pah'-sahoos-taid'), 
how do you do ? 

Muy lien, i y V.? (moo'-ee bee-ain', ee oos-taid ?) 
very well, and you ? 

A Dios (ah Dee-os'), adieu. 

Bueno (boo-ay'-no), good. 

Malo (mah'-lo), bad. 

Bonito (bo-nee'-to) pretty. 

Hermoso (air-mo'-so) beautiful. 

Bello (bail'-yo), fine. 

Lindo (leen'-do), handsome. 

Viejo (vee-ay'-ho), old. 

El zapato (el thah-pah-to) the shoe. 

El caballo (el kah-bahl'-yo) the horse. 

El vecino (el vay-thee'-no), the neighbor. 

El comerciante (el co-may r-thee-an -tay) the mer- 
chant. 



GERMAN LANGUAGE. 443 

El zapatero (el thah-pah-t?y'-ro) the shoemaker 

El lapiz (el lah'-peeth) the pencil. 

El chocolate (el cho-ko-lah'-tay) the chocolate 

Cajero (kah-hay'-ro) cashier. 

El polio (el pole-yo) the chicken. 

El haul (el bah-ool') the trunk. 

/ Cuidado ! (koo-ee-dah'-doj, take care. 

El Mejicano (el May-he-kah'-no), the Mexican. 

Tin grande hombre (oon gran'-day oni'-brayj, a 
great man. 

Tin hombre grande (oon om'-bray gran'-dayj, a 
large man. 

Tengo vino bueno (tain-go vee ; -no bway'-noj, I 
have some good wine. 

I Que hora es? (kay o'-rah es ?J, what time is it? 

Es la una (es lah oo'-nahj, it is one o'clock. 

Son las cuatro (son las kwah'-troj, it is four. 

Son las doce (son las do'-thayj, it is twelve. 

La ciudad (lah thee-oo-dad'J the city. 

Una majur (oo'-nah moo-hayr'J, a woman. 

El teatro (el tay-ah'-troj, the theatre. 

These examples give nearly all the peculiarities 
of Spanish pronunciation. 

You may wish to read German, or at least be 
able to pronounce the German words which are 
more and more frequently recurring in our litera- 
ture. We shall conclude this important chapter, 
therefore, with somes rules for the pronunciation of 
this great language. 

The German language is an original one — that 
is, its radicals are its own ; in which respect it dif- 
fers from English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portu- 
guese, &c. The German idiom approximates more 
nearly to the English than any other language. 
The old English is still more like it in idiom. The 



444 GERMAN PRONUNCIATION. 

German alphabet is the same as the English, and 
the pronunciation of the language is more simple 
and much more regular than ours. 

A is sounded ah. 

E is like a as in fate. 

I is like ee, or i in machine. 

The vowels in German have but two modifications 
each when unaccented, the long and short, which 
will come naturally to any English scholar. 

In German, as in Italian and Spanish, every syl- 
lable is sounded. For example, Bose in German is 
pronounced bo-say', not bose, as it would be in 
English. 

When vocal modifications occur, they are indicat- 
ed by a diaresis [ •• ] They are 

a — pronounced like a in dawn. 

b* — very nearly like ur in bur, flattened and with- 
out the roil of the final r. 

ti — nearly like u in French, or to an Englishman 
it may be represented as oo flattened a semitone. 

g — except at the beginning of words and sylla- 
bles, where it is like g hard in English, is sounded 
like a guttural h. 

ch — has the same sound, except still more gut- 
tural. The Scotch have this sound exactly in such 
words as loch. It is tbe sound of g hard, made far 
back in the throat, almost like the sound we call 
" hawking," to clear the throat. 

I is sounded like y. 

Q is sounded like k. 

R is more rolling than in English. 

Y is sounded like f, softly. 

W is sounded like fv, aspirately. 

Y is a Greek letter representing i. 
Z has the sound of tz. 



GENERAL RULES. 445 

The long sound of i in English is always repre- 
sented in German by ei; and, contrary to the Eng- 
lish, ie is always pronounced like e long. 

Thus bei is sounded by ; but Ue is be. 

By applying these rules, you will be able to pro- 
nounce all foreign words and names, if you know 
their origin ; and with a little observation you will 
scarcely make a mistake. French words are marked 
by ending with consonants, and by their diphthongs 
and accented letters. Such combinations as eau, 
eur, oi, and iou are of constant occurrence. In 
German you have ien and ein, ine and een, occur- 
ring often. 

In the valley of the Mississippi, most of the 
names are French, or Indian with French ortho- 
graphy. St. Louis. is properly pronounced Song- 
Loo-ee ; Illinois was Eel-ee-nwah ; Louisville is 
Loo-ee-veel ; but it is best to conform to the local 
custom, in pronunciation, and not be marked by 
singularities which are a sort of reproach to every 
one who does differently. 

We hope and believe that in this single chapter 
every reader has received " the worth of his money," 
for we are sure that many a man would rather give 
a dollar than not know, under certain supposable 
circumstances, how to pronounce a single word cor- 
rectly. 




CHAPTER XXIT. 

POETRY. 

C/ an we give this work its proper 
completeness, without a brief 
chapter on the " polite accom- 
i plishment " of versification. 
We cannot teach you, dear 
Uj reader, to write poetry ; but 
sg§: we may perhaps throw a little 
light on the construction of 
verses. Poetry is in the su- 
blime and beautiful thought, which naturally seeks 
its expression in the melody of verse. It seeks 
smoothness and beauty of expression ; a rhythmical 
or musical flow of syllables ; and often delights in 
rhymes. Poetry appeals to some of the same facul- 
ties as music, and they are often wedded to each 
other ; though, in our day, much good poetry is 
never sung, and much good music is wedded to 
very poor verse. 

Rhyme is the regular recurrence of similar sounds, 
usually at the ends of the lines. Perfect rhymes 
are such as dear, clear ; keep, weep ; song, long ; 
high, dry ; playing, straying ; verily, merrily. Al- 
lowable rhymes, which are to be used with caution, 
are such as fear, bear ; fill, steal ; band, command ; 
and such near approximations to the sound as may 
be admitted in case of necessity. 



RHYTHM. 441 

The rhymes may fall, it will be seen, on the last, 
last but one, and last but two ; or, as the gramma- 
rians say, on the ultimate, penultimate, and ante- 
penultimate. Thus we may write — 

He looked with much vacuity 
On all this ambiguity. 

Rhythm is measured by writers on prosody, in 
certain feet of accented and unaccented syllables, 
the Greek names of which, no poet, we believe, ever 
remembered. Poets, and all persons, with musical 
ears, or sensible to time, use a sort of measure or 
rhythm, in speaking or writing, either in prose or 
verse. This and the choice of smoothly sounding 
words, gives an easy and melodious style. Though 
it come by nature, like music, it may be measured 
by the rules of art. People speak and write gram- 
matically, without having ever learned a rule of 
syntax ; and they write beautiful verses without 
knowing a single technicality of prosody. 

For all that, it is well to know. It is well to be 
able to read music, and to understand the rules of 
any art. 

Poetical feet consist of 

1. The Trochee, a foot of two syllables, with the 
accent on the first ; as 

Come and | listen | to my | story. 

2. The Iambus, of two syllables, with the accent 
on the second. 

I'll sing | a song | not ve- | ry long 

3. The Spondee, of two accented syllables : 
All hail ! | great king ! 



448 IAMBIC VERSE. 

4. The Phyric, two syllables, both unaccented, of 
which it is not easy to give an English example. 

5. The Dactyl, composed of a long syllable fol- 
lowed by two short ones : 

Jonathan [ drank up old | Doolittle's | applejack. 

6. The Amphibrack has three syllables, with the 
middle one accented : 

Extatic | old Attic ! | he's getting | rheumatic. 

t. The Anapaest has the last of *hree syllables 
accented : 

On a high | rocky bank | was a bold | grenadier. 

8. The Tribrach has all its syllables accented. 

All verses are supposed to be made up of combi- 
nations of these various feet. A line of nine sylla- 
bles may be made of four trochees, with an added 
syllable ; as — 

Come and | see me | darling | Mary | Jane. 
Or it may be only three Dactyls ; as 

Washington, | Jefferson, | Madison, 
Possibly | none of them | had a son. 

The Iambic is the most common form of English 
verse, and adopted in the old ballads : as 

John Gil- | pin was | a cit- | izen 
Of fa- | mous Lon- | don town. 

This was formerly written in one long line, but ia 
now broken into two, and is called common meter, | t 
because it is so very common. 



TROCHAIC VERSE. 449 

The English heroic verse, used by the great poets, 
both in blank verse and rhyme, is composed, in its 
most regular form, of five Iambuses : 

I strike aloud my golden harp to thee. 

But this measure, which would be monotonous if 
repeated continually, is varied, as in the following 
lines of Pope, who was a finished artist in versifica- 
tion. 

Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, 
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; 
Lives through all life, extends through all extent, 
Spreads undivided, operates unspent. 

It is useless to analyze such verses ; they are 
musical ; each line is composed of two parts, which 
balance each other, with a pause, called the ccesural, 
between. 

A shorter verse, and of a more familiar style, is 
made of four Iambuses, as 

A nightingale, that all day long 

Had cheered the village with her song. 

Avaunt j ye fiends [ I all | command. 

The heroic measure sometimes takes an additional 
foot, making an Alexandrine : 

The warrior's weapon and the sophist's stole, 
Are sought no more, and o'er each mouldering tower, 
Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power. 

In Trochaic verse, the accent falls upon the first 
syllable of each foot, as 

Hush ! my [ dear, lie | still and | slumber. 
29 



450 ALLITERATION. 

The most common Anapaestic verse consists of 
three anapaests, as 

I am monarch of all I survey, 

And my right there is none to dispute ; 

From the center all round to the sea, 
I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 

Was Mr. Cowper an Irishman, making sea rhyme 
with survey ? A longer form, a little varied, is this: 

The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold, 
And his cohorts were gleaming with purple and gold. 

Or this, 
At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still. 

Mr. Longfellow has written a long poem in Eng- 
lish hexameters, a Latin measure, little adapted to 
the spirit of our language, and difficult to read with 
any comfort. The author of the Comic English 
Grammar gives the following line, which is a fair 
specimen : 

Julia, girl of my heart, is than jessamine sweeter, or fresh 
meads. 

But some of the proverbs of Solomon, and also 
of Tupper, are nearly as good. 

In both prose and verse there is a musical ten- 
dency to alliteration, or commencing several words 
in a sentence with the same sound, which is a kind 
of rhyme at the beginning instead of the end of the 
word. Pope speaks of it as 

An apt alliteration's artful aid. 

The most ingenious specimen is a poem, the Siege 



i 



ALLITERATION. 451 

of Belgrade, in which each word of each line be- 
gins with the successive letters of the Alphabet, 
from A to Z : 

An Austrian army awfully arrayed, 
Boldly by battery besieged Belgrade ; 
Cossack commanders cannonading come, 
Dealing destruction's devastating doom. 

And so on to the end. A moderate alliteration in- 
creases the melody of language ; but beware of 
multiplying alliterative adjectives, and be sparing of 
these at all times. Young writers are likely to be 
bombastic, flowery, and exuberant. Old ones are 
apt to get prosaic. The golden mean, of a strong, 
picturesque style, varying with the subject, where 
beauty is not lost, but only subordinated to use, is 
the perfection of a good writer. 

Poetry which makes itself, which comes with 
melody into the heart, and gushes to the lips in 
song, will not be suppressed ; but a laborious ham- 
mering of bald and tame ideas into verses ever so 
regular, is a very poor business. I have advised 
you to attempt to do many things ; but I do not 
advise you to try to sing without a musical ear, nor 
to write verses if you lack the poetical inspiration. 




CHAPTER XXV. 



FASHION AND THE TOILETTE. 




In the early portion of this work, 
arid in what seemed to us a natural 
order, we ventured to offer some 
suggestions on the general princi- 
ples of dress, as one of the neces- 
saries of life in civilization, though 
generally supposed to be a sign of 
moral depravity. 

But whatever man may have 
been in the origin of the race, or 
whatever he will be in the "good 
iSFtime coming/' of which we have 
so many predictions, these subjects 
have now a much greater importance than our utili- 
tarians imagine. 

Dress is the "outward and visible sign" fwe 
quote it reverently and very truly) of much " in- 
ward and spiritual grace," or of the want of it. 
Particularly is this the case where people are left in 
some degree of freedom, and are not compelled to 
wear a uniform, prescribed by custom or authority ; 
as under despotic governments, in certain religious 
sects, or under the pressure of a striugent public 
opinion. 

To a certain extent, therefore, the dress of each 



ELIZABETH FRY. 



453 




individual is significant of his character ; while the 
costumes of classes and peoples are the indications 
of their mental and moral, as well as physical con- 
ditions. 
The toga of the Roman orator, and the helmet of 

the warrior, belong 
to those characters 
as they lived, and 
as we now repro- 
duce them on the 
stage, though Ro- 
man heroes have 
been acted in the 
laced coats and 
bag wigs of last 
century's fashions. 
A hero's heart may indeed beat 
under the costume of Charles the 
Second's time — but it was because 
the court dressed heroes, and he- 
roes did not form the court. 

Elizabeth Fry was a Quakeress, 
and wore the prim and formal cos- 
tume of that unbeauteous sect ; but 

though a drab gown 
and a bonnet like a 
coal scuttle is not the 
necessary garb of a phi- 
lanthropic spirit, yet 
it is very certain that 
we should not expect 
to find such a woman a 
mass of "fuss and fea- 
thers f one of those 
excellent good natured 





454 



PHILOSOPHY OF HATS. 



people who, wishing to please everybody, and fol- 
low the fashions at all hazards, plunge into them 
" over head and ears." 

In spite of Leary and Genin, 
and their spring and fall fash- 
ions, there is character in the 
hat and in the mode of wearing 
it. Some men always wear the 
hat smooth and shining ; others 
have it rough and dusty from 
the first day of its newness. 
Men select their hats and wear 
them according to their phreno- 
logical developments. 

The gentleman who 
wears this tall specimen of 
the joint of a stove pipe, 
with an angular quizzing 





glass inserted into his eye, 
has an entirely different 
mental organization from 
this spectacled old gentle- 
man who wears his hat 
more particularly to pro- 
tect his head from sun, rain, 
and cold, and takes the 
form he supposes best adapted to that purpose. 
Different from either are the graceful curves of this 
more tasteful man of fashion, who dresses near the 
mode, without being in excess ; or who most pro- 




THE MELANCHOLY HAT. 



455 




bably leaves the matter of dress very much to the 
artists of various kinds who have it under their 
charge. 

Here is a hat now ! Did its strong curves and 
sharp corners ever cover any other 
kind of face and costume ? sharp nose 
and the eye of a hawk. You may 
wager any portion of your valuable 
existence that this sharp hat covers 
the head of a sharper ! 

Can't you go to the hall table of a 
hotel at dinner 
time, and pick 
out this man's hat ? It is 
straight, and square in its an- 
gles ; it has not much nap, the 
brim is narrow, and stands out 
evenly all round. You can 
take his hat without the least 
fear of making a blunder. 

Here is a 
specimen of. 
the melan- 
choly or for- 
lorn hat, with 
countenance 

and figure, costume and attitude 
to match. Ah ! there is a study 
of the lugubrious for you. When 
you are bound for a fit of the 
blues, take a look at this and 
think better of it. Or this, the 
same style, only reduced below 
the line of heroics. The crown 
has caved in, and the forlorn 





45$ 



EXPRESSION OF COSTUME. 



wearer of this unfortunate hat has succumbed to 
misery. He rests upon a 
hard stool, and seeks con- 
solation in the pipe and 
bottle of whisky. 

The group we give, at 
this conclusion of our sec- 
tion on hats, is more exten- 
sively characteristic, and 
will answer as a general 
introduction to other ex- 
pressions of costume. The tall gentleman gallant- 
ing two ladies, wears such a hat, and in such a 
fashion, that if you could see only the hat over the 
fence, you could take your affidavit of the sort of 
man you would find under it, and of the general 





COLOR OF THE HAIR. 



451 



ctyle and appearance of the ladies he would be 

likely to accompany. 

But as people do not wear hats at all times ; as 

they are expected to take them off to ladies always ; 

and to keep them off whenever they are in their 

company in doors, or where they are not required 

as a protection, the style of the hair is a matter of 

consequence ; and this is, perhaps, as characteristic 

an expression as the hat itself. True, our ladie* 

follow fasMons, dressing now 

in one mode, then in another, 

but always with variety 

enough to indicate individual 

tastes. The color itself is a 

striking indication, where 

there are no dyes or wigs. 
Dark hair is 
strong ; light 
is amiable ; 

red is passionate ; auburn indicates 
a richness of nature ; straight hair 
is earnest ; curling is imaginative, 





&c. The hair worn 
long, and with a cer- 
tain luxuriance of 
style, gives the idea 
of a profuseness of 
character, either in ^ 
good or evil. 




*K^ 



458 



THE SHARPER. 




Worn in close clusters, it suits a face still strong 
but of more earnestness. 

The hair on this figure, thin straight, and scram- 
bling, coarse and impossible to brush into any 
form or comeliness, where could it grow but upon 
this its native soil, and what other style of physiog- 
nomy could it harmonize with and embellish ? 

And what a contrast do we find in the aerial 
grace, the superb elegance of this 
little sketch at the left, of the por- 
trait of a gentleman — one you would 
never suspect to be any other than a 
man of elegance and fashion, sans 
peur of anything but tan or his tai- 
lor's bill, and sans reprocke in the 
estimation of the ladies. 

Let us recommend the editor of the Comic 
World to take some of these for his series of social 
contrasts. " They will suit him to a hair. 

Here is the head of a well, it is hard to tell 

where you will find him, but 
wherever you do, he is a sharp- 
er, as you may see by his hair, 
beard, cravat, and physiog- 
nomy, of which these are a 
part ; for the physiologists have 
demonstrated that the spirit 
' makes to itself a body, as an 
expression or embodiment of 
itself, just as the man then pro- 
ceeds to dress himself, and so 
express himself still further. 

And as a contrast to this last, take a glance at 
the clear cut, finished, refined, and elegant dandy- 
ism of this gentleman, at the right, who may be 
no better at least than his brother on the preceding 




DANDYISM. 



459 



page, but who "belongs very evi- 
dently to another plane of society; 
and who, if a dandy and a sharper, 
is one of the most tasteful, exqui- 
site, and superb character. We 
give it as a specimen of a gentle- 
man's toilette, airy, luxurious, a lit- 
tle audacious even, but still with 
the unmistakeable stamp of high 
breeding and fashion. The whole ex- 
pression is very remarkable. What 
do you say to this, for example ? 




Do we need to 




460 



THE THIN GENTLEMAN. 



characterize it particularly ? Is it necessary to 
specify the kind and quality of human spirit that 
would form to itself such a material envelopment ; 
and then resort to these perfectly natural and en- 
tirely characteristic expressions of dress and adorn- 
ment ! Verily the gentleman, or, more strictly 
speaking, the gent, may speak for himself. 

Below him is another, the costume entire, and the 
whole expression in all its completeness — style, 
fashion, attitude ; an easy, good-natured, comforta- 
ble, happy dandyism, found in Paris, and probably 
nowhere else in the same perfection. This gentle- 
man lives on the Boulevards, the Champs Elysees, 
the cafes, and the theatres, while 
madame is an active woman of 
business, who keeps a shop and 
supports the family. 

Quite the opposite of this figure, 
which has breadth and ease, and a 
careless and happy conceitedness, 
is our thin friend at the left, who 
with a Calvin Edson-like develop- 
ment of muscle and cellular tissue, 
dresses in the same niggard style, 
and is as careful of broadcloth 
as nature has been of his carnal 
integuments. Wouldn't you wa- 
ger that the clothes grew on the 
body, or were made for it by a 
most conscientious tailor, who 
had been bound over never to 
make a misfit ? It is a starve- 
ling style, black in color, a little 
threadbare, and without " the 
* aid of foreign ornament " 




THE STABLE BOY. 



461 



Speaking of contrasts, here is another j and how 
can we better show the power of culture, the import- 
ance of manner, style, costume — of all that makes 
the man or woman of society, than by presenting 
these copies from all phases of life to the eye, and 
letting them make their clear impression on the 
mind? 

Here is a stable boy, in the witness stand, called 
upon to testify. It is 
the great event of his 
mortal career. It is 
the era in his life to 
which his memory will 
ever go back, and 
from which he will 
reckon all circumstan- 
ces. He has no clear 
idea of whether he 
stands on his head or 
his heels. There is 
a roaring in his ears ; 
he feels his hair creep- 
ing ; his knees are un- 
steady ; his mouth is 
precious dry, and his 
tongue cleaveth unto 
the roof thereof; his tremulous voice, hoarse and 
sepulchral, startles him, and he seems to stand in 
the full glare of all the eyes in the universe. So he 
stands with his mouth open, his eyes staring like 
two saucers, twiddling his thumbs, changing from 
one foot to the other, and all for the want of a lit- 
tle culture, experience, or discipline of life, such 
as gives confidence in the place of bashfulness, and 
repose to the most fidgety. 




462 THE SMART MAN. 

Now turn to another subject. This man is not 
bashful. It wouldn't trouble 
him to give his testimony any- 
where. He is smart, and knows 
it himself, and don't care who 
else finds it out. He is well 
dressed, and has a perfect con- 
sciousness of that fact also. He 
is ready for anything — a man of 
business, that will cut his way 
through all opposing obstacles. 
His self-esteem, his smart brus- 
querie, his up-and-at-you style of 
manner and conversation, and 
his attitudes, that have more in- 
dependence than grace, are not 
placed here for your imitation. 

Here are the two extremes, 
and a golden mean of a modest, 
^|fc quiet, but calm and brave self- 
possession lies between. The 
perfection of good manners is 
ose; not the languor of the 
dandy or Vhomme blase, the used up man of fashion- 
able dissipation ; not the coolness and nonchalance 
of the artificial fop ; not the cold hauteur of the 
parvenu aristocrat, who is obliged to nurse his dig- 
nity ; not the fussy pretentiousness of a man always 
thinking of his looks and manners ; but the calm, 
easy, simple dignity of a true gentleman, which 
ever results from the consciousness of intelligence 
and worth ; but which no art will ever enable the 
aspirant to successfully imitate, who is at heart 
conscious of his unworthiness of this high distinc- 
tion. 




THE UNFORTUNATE GENTLEMAN. 



463 



Still less do we commend, ambitious and tasteful 
youth, who desirest to be an 
accomplished gentleman and 
worthy of the highest place 
in social estimation, still 
less do we commend to your 
imitation, but rather in 
many respects to your most 
earnest reprobation, the style 
and manner hereunto annex- 
ed; our tall friend, him with' 
the shabby-genteel clothes, 
the shocking bad hat, the 
general appearance of being 
very much out at the elbows, 
and the abandonment of a 
pipe. When a man who has 
ever called himself a gentle- 
man leaves off his gloves, it 
may be for a good reason or 
a bad one. It is either to 
go to work, or in abandon- 
ment to the fate of a loafer; 
but when a gentleman takes 
to a pipe, he does an act 
which we are much too gen- 
tlemanly to allow ourselves to properly characterize 
in these pages. 

This is a style in all respects remarkable, pictur- 
esque, and with a certain air of careless grandeur 
worthy of our admiration, but not, as we have 
already intimated, of imitation. 

Not more so is the slight retrospection our artist 
has given of a brother artist, who indulges in such 
eccentricities of genius as letting his hair grow 




464 



THE AMERICAN AMBASSADOR. 




and go at its own sweet will ; who wears a hat 
utterly amorphous, " without 
form and void," unless his 
head is accounted something ; 
a short and very shabby cloak, 
and other habiliments fitting 
the extraordinary figure they 
embellish. 

While dwelling on these ec- 
centricities of costume, we must 
not forget our own national por- 
trait, as drawn by Mr. Punch ; 
and as we have given his run- 
nings of some rather remarka- 
ble specimens of the free-born 
Englishman, it is but fair that we give his concep- 
tion of the model American citizen, in full costume. 
This is assumed to be the appearance of the 
model or ideal American am- 
bassador presenting himself at 
a foreign court, in his own 
national dress, in compliance 
with the patriotic suggestions 
of Secretary Marcy. 

It is worth knowing what 
our neighbors think of us for 
two reasons ; one is that we 
may improve by their criti- 
cisms — the other, that we may 
the better know what to think 
of them. It will not hurt us 
to study our own portraits, 
whether drawn by Trollope, 
Dickens, or Punch ; and we 
cannot afford to lose the bit- 




THE BEARDED MOVEMENT. 



4G5 



terest sarcasm, if it gives us a hint for real improve* 
ment. 

The shaggy style of 
costume is artistically 
presented in the annexed 
engraving, in which our 
artist has done such jus- 
tice to the beard move- 
ment, in its incipient 
stages, as the hardness 
of the times would per- 
mit. The general effect 
of dress, attitude, and 
occupation, may be stu- 
died by our youthful as- 
pirants to manhood and 
fashion, with great ad- 
vantage. 

We have already ex- 
pressed an opinion in 
favor of the naturalness, 
the propriety, the health- 
fulness, and the beauty 
of the entire beard, un- 
touched by the razor, but 

trimmed, as the hair is, and 
in the same proportion, 
with the scissors. We 
have examined the subject 
in every light, and this is 
our final conviction. 

That the subject may 
have fuller justice, we give 
a head, in which mousta- 
ches have been cultivated, 





466 HARMONY OF COLORS. 

in the antique style, while the chin is shaven, that 
their luxuriant growth may show to the better ad- 
vantage. 

The toilette of a gentleman, at this time, allows 
of but little choice of colors. In this country, nine- 
teen-twentieths of all coats are black ; a few are 
blue, which is a very rich and beautiful color, and 
dark green, brown, and claret are worn as a morn- 
ing costume. Dress pantaloons must also be black, 
or white ; but in the morning, drabs, grays, and 
plaids are worn. In vests, a light buff, or figures of 
pale blue or violet, may be ventured upon. 

But ladies wear all colors — the deepest, the rich- 
est, and in the greatest variety. In selecting colors, 
you must study their harmony with your complexion 
and with each other. 

Rose red cannot be put in contact with the rosi- 
est complexions without causing them to lose some 
of their freshness. Dark red is less objectionable 
for certain complexions than rose red, because, 
being higher than this latter, it tends to impart 
whiteness to them in consequence of contrast of 
tone. 

A delicate green is, on the contrary, to all fair 
complexions which are deficient in rose, and which 
may have more imparted to them without inconve- 
nience. But it is not as favorable to complexions 
that are more red than rosy, nor those that have 
a tint of orange mixed with brown, because the red 
they add to this tint will be of a brick red hue. In 
the latter case, a dark green will be less objection- 
able than a delicate green. 

Yellow imparts violet to a fair skin, and in this 
view it is less favorable than the delicate green. To 
those skins which are more yellow than orange it 



HARMONY OF COLORS. 46? 

imparts white ; but this combination is very dull 
and heavy for a fair complexion. When the skin is 
tinted more with orange than yellow, we can make 
it roseate by neutralizing the yellow. It produces 
this effect upon the black-haired type, and it is thus 
that it suits brunettes. 

Yiolet, the complimentary of yellow, produces 
contrary effects ; thus it imparts some greenish yel- 
low to fair complexions. It augments the yellow 
tint of yellow and orange skins. The little blue 
there may be in a complexion it makes green. Yio- 
let, then, is one of the least favorable colors to the 
skin, at least, when it is not sufficiently deep to 
whiten it by contrast of hues. 

Blue imparts orange, which is susceptible of ally- 
ing itself favorably to white and the light flesh tints 
of fair complexions which have already a more or 
less determined tint to this color. Blue is, then, 
suitable to most blondes, and in this case justifies 
its reputation. It will not suit brunettes, since they 
have already too much of the orange. 

Orange is too brilliant to be elegant ; it makes 
fair complexions blue, whitens those which have an 
orange tint, and gives a green hue to those of a 
yellow tint 

Drapery of a lustreless white, such as cambric 
muslin, assorts well with a fresh complexion, of 
which it relieves the rose color ; but it is unsuitable 
to complexions which have a disagreeable tint, for 
the reason that white always exalts all colors by 
raising their tone ; consequently it is unsuitable to 
those skins which, without having this disagreeable 
tint, very nearly approach it. Yery light white 
draperies, such as muslin, plaited or point lace, have 
an entirely different aspect. 



468 MANNER OF WEARING THE HAIR. 

Black draperies, lowering the tone of the colors 
with which they are in juxtaposition, whiten the 
skin ; but if the vermillion or rosy parts are to a 
certain point distant from the drapery, it will fol- 
low thafc, although lowered in tone, they appear 
relatively to the white parts of the skin contiguous 
to this same drapery, redder than if the contiguity 
of the black did not exist. 

In suiting the hat to the complexion, remember 
that a delicate, pale complexion should wear a pink 
lining, but where there is color with it, blue or 
straw color should be worn. A brunette or dark 
complexion should wear white lining, with a delicate 
rose trimming ; never black unless unavoidable. A 
large person, with small features, should never wear 
a small hat, unless the fashion imperatively demands 
it. The reverse with small persons. An extremely 
red or yellow complexion should not wear high 
colors. Yellow, lilac, and red, are the most trying 
colors to the complexion. 

For most persons, and most occasions, pale tints 
of blue, rose, violet, &c, and the neutral tints, are 
more elegant and becoming, than higher, and more 
positive colors ; and the same woman, who, dressed 
in one style, would seem tasteful and refined, would 
have a vulgar, dowdyish appearance in the other. 

A beautiful and becoming costume is a picture or 
a poem. Show your genius and goodness in its 
composition. 

Let your appearance when dressed, be like some 
delicate flower, the one yon most admire ; or, like a 
bouquet of flowers, tastefully arranged. A woman 
of delicate taste will be like a white, or blush, or 
moss rose ; like a violet, or an azalia ; not like a 
sunflower, a peony, a poppy or a hollyhock. En- 



CLEANLINESS OF THE HAIR. 



469 



deavor to study nature in her most lovely and deli- 
cate moods. 

A gentleman's hair is left to the hair-cutter, and 
bis own comb and brush. It requires to be kept 
clean ; to be worn, not too long, and either care- 
fully or carelessly, as he may think most becoming. 
The style in this little tableau, which represents a 
man of evident fashion, leading a lady forward to be 
presented to the company, or to take her place in the 
quadrille, is not unbecoming to certain styles of 
person. 




In the city, our ladies of the beau monde also have 
their hair dressers, or coiffeurs, for all great occa- 



i 



470 



OIL PERFUMES. 



sions, who with dyes, and unguents, false hair, 
braids, curls, and flowers, work wonders. 

We give a 
beautiful engra- 
ving of this 
style of artistic 
decoration ; but 
our country rea- 
ders, who must 
dress their own 
hair, or assist 
each other, will 
find no difficul- 
ty in developing 
the beauty of 
this glorious or- 
nament. All hair 
should be well 
washed ; care- 
fully dried and 
made glossy by 
brushing. The 
nicest onguent is 
a pure castor oil, 
with its natural 
odor covered with rose, violet, or some faint and 
favorite perfume ; but not the spicy and musky 
aromas of the barber shops, or bad cologne. Or, 
you may take pure olive oil, and stiffen it a little by 
melting with it some beeswax and meal, the purer 
and whiter the better. Oil perfumes may be gath- 
ered from the petals of flowers, by letting them soak 
in the oil, and then pressing them out. Some hair 
grows rancid, .if not carefully dried, and gives out 
an unpleasant odor. Of this, " 0, beware !" 




HEAD DRESS. 471 

Fashion has had, and may still have, strange 
vagaries in these adornments ; building up the 
feminine head in lofty towers and horns, with 
ribbons, feathers, powder, and pomatum, and cov- 
ering masculine shoulders with immense flowing 
wigs of curled horse-hair ; but may we not hope 
that such eccentricities and absurdities are now 
forever vanished, and that we have entered at last 
upon a tasteful era? 

And then the bonnets. Do we not remember 
the frightful things, dear, and, in spite of them, 
lovely ladies wore twenty years ago? What a 
contrast were those great, flopping, umbrella-like 
monstrosities — that we should ever say it ! — to the 
delicious little gauzy beauties of to-day ! But, 
alas ! while we write the fashion may be chang- 
ing, and what now seems so beautiful, so becom- 
ing, so very charming, may in time come to seem 
ridiculous ! 

You doubt. You go to your glass, and try on 
the last new purchase, and wonder if there ever 
was any thing so pretty and so becoming*. Your 
grandmother did the same, and your mother also ; 
and, if your memory goes back a few years, you 
may probably recall some faint rapture over a 
very different form, which yet was " Oh ! so be- 
coming !" 

We shall make no effort to explain these things. 
We can not tell why the Chinese find ecstasy in 
little feet, and serene enjoyment in shaved heads 
and their long, wonderful pig-tails. No more can 
we tell why, against all the laws of nature, all the 
rules of art, all classic standards of beauty, and 
all principles of health, our women, for three 
generations, with their often puny and short- 



472 NECESSITIES. OF THE TOILETTE. 

lived children, have been martyrs to tight- 
lacing ! 

When the vagaries of fashion cramp the waist 
and pinch the feet, they destroy life ; when they 
are an outrage on good taste, their moral and 
esthetic influence may be equally injurious ! 

The first necessities of the toilet are, plenty 
of clean, soft water, of which pure rain-water is 
the best ; plenty of towels, coarse and fine ; good 
fine soap, which will cleanse and soften the skin, 
and not make it rough, or leave an unpleasant odor ; 
Combs, coarse and fine ; hair-brushes, with long, 
stiff bristles ; a nail-brush ; a tooth-brush ; brushes 
for hat and clothes, and, if you wish to be thor- 
oughly independent, for shoes ; a good, sharp pen- 
knife to cut the nails ; scissors to trim the beard, 
if a gentleman, and for fifty things if a lady ; 
tweezers to remove superfluous hair, not from the 
head, but from the face, neck, ears, nose, etc. ; 
and needles, thread, and buttons are very con- 
venient. 

Frequent cutting and much brushing promotes 
the health and beauty of the hair ; and I believe 
cold water to the roots, every morning, to be one 
of the best preservatives. 

Will you wear a wig, if bald ? Most people of 
fashion do ; ladies always, or its equivalent. But 
a manly bald head is sometimes very becoming. 

Night-caps, except some very pretty ones the 
ladies have, are neither healthy nor becoming. A 
child should never wear a cap in-doors, and a 
night-cap on a man is — not romantic. 

The cost of dress may call for consideration. 
The dress of a gentleman, one year with another, 
may cost from one hundred dollars to one thou- 



THE COST OF DRESS. 473 

pand ; that of a lady, from one hundred and fifty 
to any sum she chooses to expend upon it. The 
single item of gloves often costs from one to two 
hundred dollars, and shoes as much more. Still, 
a lady who is prudent and economical can dress 
like a lady, in New York, for two hundred dollars 
a year ; but this requires great nicety and some 
self-denial. It does not admit of hundred-dollar 
cloaks, fifty-dollar handkerchiefs, nor twenty-dol- 
lar bonnets. 

A gentleman's wardrobe, or single outfit, may 
cost from one to two hundred dollars, but without 
dandyism or any extravagance. 

These estimates, we are aware, will be consid- 
ered absurdly low by people of fashion and ex- 
travagance ; but the thousands of worthy gentle- 
men in this country who live and support families 
on salaries and incomes of from three to five hun- 
dred dollars a year, and ladies who are paid less 
than this for the exercise of the finest talents, will 
be better able to understand it. People who 
waste on a single article of dress enough to sup- 
port several worthy families, are no proper rule 
for the graduation of a gentlemanly outlay. 
The principle of economy in dress must always 
remain a mystery to those who, possessed of 
ample means, habitually gratify each desire as it 
arises. 

But, after all, the best cosmetic is health ; and 
the processes by which we obtain health are the 
best means of insuring beauty. Upon these you 
can not be too well informed, nor can you give 
too earnest heed to the whole science of life. 

Agriculture is, perhaps, the most natural, 
healthful, and truly dignified occupation ; and 



474 GYMNASTICS. 

there is no reason why the costume of the farmer 
and the horticulturist should not correspond to 
this condition. 

Those who object to gymnastics, on the ground 
of their unnaturalness and unproductiveness, must 
"hurry up" the "attractive industry" we read 
about. Boys and girls must have exercise, and 
will have that of a pretty violent character. Let 
it be as systematic as possible, giving the most 
free and thorough, and, at the same time, the most 
joyous exercise to the whole physical system. 

Among the graceful exercises of a somewhat 
riper age, favoring the development of manly 
graces, tact, quickness, and the self-reliance of a 
confidence in one's own resources, is the art of 
fencing. 

The time was when every gentleman had his 
foils hanging in his room, and considered fencing 
not less needful than dancing, as the accomplish- 
ment of a thorough gentleman — the gentleman 
who now too much discards the manly and ath- 
letic exercises, content if he but 

11 Sport him nimbly in a lady's chamber, 
To the lascivious pleasings of a lute." 

Genius claims the privilege of eccentricity in 
dress, in attitude, in action. Who expects your 
sublime poet, or your great musician, to dress like 
other people? Much may be excused to the oc- 
cupation of a mind intent on its own creations ; 
but the affectation of such peculiarities is a trait 
so contemptible that it would be well to avoid its 
appearance. Still, professional celebrities seem to 
know the secret of success, and a prodigy must 
seem to be prodigious. 



GRACEFUL DEPORTMENT. 



475 



If these hints, enforced with such artistic em- 
bellishments as we have at command, enable the 
reader to attain to his capability of graceful and 
attractive elegance of costume and behavior, and 
to avoid the rude, the awkward, the shabby, the 
discordant, the extravagant, and the ridiculous, a 
generous and kindly appreciation will be a suffi- 
cient reward for all our exertions. 



CHAPTER XXYI. 



CONCLUDING REMARKS. 



However the gentle reader may regret the ne- 
cessity, we must bring our book to a conclusion. 
Art is long, but life is short ; and if you spend 
all your days in the study of politeness, you will 
have no time for its practice. As we are not 
heard for our much speaking, neither are we read 
for our much writing. Doubtless it would have 
been possible to compress this work into a hun- 
dred pages, or ten, or a single sentence, for a 
word may comprehend all truth. But this is not 
the way that people are educated. Besides, it 
would be rather difficult to condense our illustra- 
tions, which are quite as instructive, and a little 
more amusing perhaps, than the letter-press. 

We shall occupy what space remains to us with 
such observations as may have been elsewhere 
omitted, or as are suggested by the close of our 
labors, and may be of use to the reader, who, by 
this time, is thoroughly indoctrinated in the prin- 
ciples of good breeding, and has, no doubt, made 
good progress in their practical application. For 
it is a characteristic of our countrymen that they 
dare to undertake any thing, and generally accom- 
plish what they undertake. 

It used to be our ambition to get rich, or be 
(476) 



BREEDING AND CULTURE. 477 

President; but these things are now become so 
common and so easy, that they lose their charm. 
Probably the best ambition just now is to be dis- 
tinguished as an eminently tasteful and accom- 
plished lady or gentleman. As hereditary aris- 
tocracies are losing prestige, we had best create a 
pure and genuine aristocracy, of the finest blood, 
the best breeding, and the noblest action and en- 
dowment. 

This can be done by securing great health and 
vigor, by care of the person, a pure diet, exercise, 
harmony of the passions and faculties, resulting 
from a large and varied activity of all, rather than 
the repression of any ; by that development of the 
highest capability of every nature, in which con- 
sists its beauty and nobility. The scientific prin- 
ciples of breeding and culture, now understood and 
practiced with respect to vegetables, fruits, and the 
lower animals, would, if applied to the human race, 
in three generations change the whole aspect of 
human society, by the elevation of the whole hu- 
man character. 

There is no quality of man, any more than of 
any species of vegetable or animal, that may not 
be made universal. What is now the exception, 
in strength, longevity, beauty, genius, or moral ex- 
cellence, may become the rule, and be so universal 
that any deviation would be considered monstrous. 
Our labors tend to this result, which will follow in 
proportion as our instructions are obeyed. 

How will you begin? Do the first thing you 
can see to do. Clean your finger-nails, perhaps, 
or your teeth ; overhaul your wardrobe ; provide 
yourself with proper night-clothes ; see to the 
purity of your person and surroundings, as the 



478 COURTESY. 

first element of good taste. Introduce your whole 
skin to a familiar acquaintance with water, warm, 
cool, or cold ; but, for its health and yours, the 
colder the better. We know delicate ladies who 
find strength and beauty in having ice in their 
morning-baths the year round. 

Resolve that you will not breathe an impure at- 
mosphere when it is possible to get any other. If 
your church is not well ventilated, decline attend- 
ing service until it is. If theaters impose bad air 
upon you, renounce the drama. If you can not go 
into society without breathing over the breaths, 
and odors, and emanations of whole crowds of 
people, have the delicacy to keep out of their 
company until they can learn to treat you with 
the hospitality of a decent atmosphere. 

Resolve to eat and drink what you know to be 
healthiest, purest, and in all respects best, and eat 
habitually, in the manner you understand to be 
according to the most refined usage. Resolve not 
to make yourself, in any of the habits of your life, 
in eating or drinking, an object of disgust. Do 
this, and you will be well advanced in the path of 
progress. 

Habitually regard the rights of others. You 
can not come into the presence of another but there 
arises this question of rights. Guard your own 
from unscrupulous and wanton violation, but be 
still more careful not to trespass upon those of 
others. Courteously grant a little more than jus- 
tice requires. Turn out a little more than half 
way. Nothing is lost by courtesy. The senti- 
ment of justice, though often perverted and lost 
sight of, still rules humanity. The very organ- 
grinder knows he can trust it, and that, if you 



ATTITUDE OF THE BARRACKS. 479 

listen to his music, you will give him your penny 
in return. 

Avoid importunity. If you seek a right, assert 
your claim with dignity. If you ask a favor, do 
not demean yourself like a street beggar pleading 
for charity. Importunity sometimes wins an un- 
willing assent. A woman " marries a man to get 
rid of him." But in most cases you are more 
likely to be offered what you do not need than to 
obtain by solicitation what you do. Every body 
is ready to help those who have no need of assist- 
ance—to lend money to those who have enough. 
It is not a lack of charity, but of security. Men 
lend where they feel secure of being repaid ; they 
lend influence or favor where it can be returned 
to them. 

It is a part of the social reciprocities to be re- 
spectful to those from whom you ask respect. 
Never in the world, probably, did a gentleman sit 
astride a chair, leaning over its back, in the pres- 
ence of a lady. It is an attitude of the barrack 
or the bar-room ; and the lady who reads this 
book will, probably, become conscious for the first 
time of the possibility of such a position — that is, 
if she has had the good fortune to associate with 
none but gentlemen. 

There are persons who never seem to be satis- 
fied with civilized usages. They would rather sit 
on a table than a chair, and in a chair prefer the 
support of two legs to four. These are the hor- 
ror of all housewives. Tipping, screwing about, 
wriggling, they break down tme chair at every 
visit, and should be constantly followed by a cab- 
inet-maker, with screws and a. glue-pot, to repair 
damages. 



AN AMEBICAN CUSTOM. 



The elegant custom of sitting with the feet ele- 
vated above the head is believed to be purely 
American in its origin, and generally confined to 
this continent in its practice. It can scarcely be 
considered either useful or ornamental, and, if 
practiced at all, it should be in the seclusion of 
one's own private apartment. We would not en- 
courage an undue fastidiousness, but it is certain 
that a gentleman who should allow himself to be 
seen in such an attitude by a lady could not re- 
cover against her in an action for breach of 
promise. Whether it would be deemed a suffi- 
cient ground for a divorce, in this era of liberal 
marriage laws, the courts must decide. The at- 
titude is, as Shakspeare says — But we may 
spare ourselves the trouble of making the quo- 
tation. 

If this elevation of the understandings of the 
people is a trait peculiarly American, the attitude 
we next refer to is as exclusively that of the re- 
spectable Englishman. If there is a fireplace in 
a room, or any sign of a place where one might 
be kindled, the Englishman turns his back to it, 
spreads apart his legs, and separates his coat- 
tails. Summer or winter it is the same ; in heat 
or cold. Turn an Englishman into a room, and 
he backs up to the fireplace expands himself, 
and stands at ease. It is his one idea of com- 
fort. He is lost, uneasy, forlorn, in every room 
where this position is inadmissible. In such a 
case, he generally gets one foot in a chair. It is 
possible that some Americans may have ac- 
quired this habit by imitation or as a heredita- 
ment. 

It is not allowable to recline at length on a 



LITTLE HABITS. 481 

sofa, except with persons where you feel entirely 
familiar. Under other circumstances, easy, loung- 
ing manners are very bad manners. 

Be careful of little habits, which may follow 
you a lifetime, such as biting your nails, putting 
a finger to the nose, picking the cheek, etc. If 
you have such a habit, resolve to be free from it t 
as you would from any disease. 

When you are giving or receiving change, it is 
well not to put it in your mouth. I know the 
omnibus-drivers do it, and very nasty it is of 
them ; and we have an anecdote of a beautiful 
country girl, who, taking a sixpence from her 
porte-monnaie, held it in her lips, then -passed it 
to a gentleman to hand up to the driver. Smitten 
with the beauty of the charming rustic, the senti- 
mental city youth kissed the precious coin, and, 
putting it in his pocket for a souvenir, handed up 
a sixpence of his own ! 

Coin is not very clean, and bank-notes are 
sometimes offensively dirty. It is well to wash 
after handling either. A polite shopkeeper never 
gives copper change unless wrapped in a paper. 
The time will come, we presume, when every bank 
will redeem its dirty bills with clean ones ; or we 
may have bills that will wash ; or be able to dis- 
pense with them altogether. 

When you borrow money, if but a sixpence, 
pay it with scrupulous punctuality. There is a 
delicacy in these matters that can not be violated. 
Borrow as seldom as possible ; lend cheerfully, 
courteously, when you can ; and refuse firmly 
where the loan is too much or the risk too great. 
Offer your purse as freely as you do any other ci- 
vility, where it may be needed. Those best entitled 
31 



482 TREATMENT OF A DEBTOR. 

to such assistance are often the last to ask, or the 
most unwilling to accept it. 

Never treat a debtor rudely. The most despi- 
cable insolence is that of the purse. If a man can 
not pay, you gain nothing by insult or harsh 
treatment ; if unwilling to pay, he feels justified 
in his refusal by your bad manners. The cred- 
itor who abuses or insults a debtor really loses his 
claim to the money, for the insult should be con- 
sidered an offset. 

Avoid all indebtedness, if possible ; but if you 
must owe, let it be to few persons, and in large 
amounts, rather than small ones. Pay all little 
personal matters, and the needy, and owe those 
who can afford to wait, and whom you can com- 
pensate. 

It is often better to go to a pawnbroker, or a 
man who makes a business of lending, than to ask 
an acquaintance. It is seldom, indeed, that one 
can properly borrow of a mere acquaintance, un- 
less a loan is voluntarily offered. 

In love, men and women may make and accept 
many sacrifices. The man who would give his 
life for a woman is not likely to think much of 
dollars. But if there is any doubt about the na- 
ture or continuance of the love, it is best to call 
in prudence. 

It is said that there is no friendship in trade. 
This is a maxim worthy of pirates. Where 
friendship exists, it must extend to all relations. 
A true gentleman will not do an ungentlemanly 
act in the cotton market, or on the stock ex- 
change, any more than in his dining-room. A 
gentleman will be courteous every-where, and not 
make a bear of himself when his young and 



FRIENDSHIP. 483 

pretty wife happens to admire a handsome passing 
uniform, without thinking at all of the officer who 
wears it ! 

Apropos : When the Government happens to 
station a regiment or two of our gallant army in 
your neighborhood, ladies, and you invite the offi- 
cers, fine fellows as they generally are, to your 
parties, think twice before you lavish all your at- 
tentions upon them, and utterly neglect those who 
are quite as good, and who have been for years 
your obsequious admirers. Such thoughtless 
conduct sometimes causes heart-aches that last a 
lifetime. 

It is well for a gentleman to be handsome, and 
to know it, but not to make it too evident to 
others that he lives in such a consciousness. 
Women are attracted to coxcombs ; they like to 
subdue them ; but I think they seldom give them 
a place in their hearts. It is my observation 
that no man is so likely to be trifled with and 
jilted. 

Have the habit of coolness, presence of mind, 
order, and thoughtfulness. It is not well to go 
about with your shoe untied or a stocking ungar- 
tered ; to walk the streets with one trowsers' leg 
tucked in your boot ; to forget your gloves when 
you ought to wear them ; to have your cravat 
awry ; or, misery as it often is, to forget your 
pocket-handkerchief when you have most need of 
it — a thing, too, you can neither borrow nor lend ; 
but if you ever do borrow such a thing, and you 
may and must where needful, you can only return 
it clean and nicely done up. 

I Of handkerchiefs : let them be white linen, as 
fine as you can afford, neatly embroidered for a 



484 KISSING. 

lady, but plain for a gentleman. Gentlemen no 
longer carry silk flags and bandannas. Put your 
handkerchief in your pocket; if you leave it 
hanging out, you deserve to lose it. 

Put your gloves entirely and neatly on the 
hand — not half on, nor carried to show you have 
them. The glove is a pretty good test of gentle- 
manly habits. Those who are not at home in 
them wear them ostentatiously and awkwardly, 
and are glad to get them off; while those who 
have been used to them, feel lost and uncomfort- 
able without them. 

Ladies kiss each other — on the cheeks, proba- 
bly. They kiss and are kissed often, we hap- 
pen to know, because it is the custom, when they 
would much rather be excused ; and this com- 
plaisance is possibly sometimes extended to the 
other sex. 

As a matter of principle, no form ought to be 
customary or obligatory, which may in some cases 
be disagreeable. In some countries kissing is the 
common salutation of both sexes. Under the 
"blue laws," it was an offense for a man to kiss 
even his wife in the presence of a third person, if 
their daughter. According to the French code, a 
woman gives her hand to a gentleman to kiss, her 
cheek to her friends, but scrupulously keeps her 
lips for her lover. To allow one she did not love 
to kiss her on her lips would be an outrage on the 
delicacy of the sentiment. 

False pride and false dignity are very mean 
qualities. A true gentleman will do any thing 
proper for him to do. He can soil his hands or 
use his muscles when there is occasion. The 
truest gentleman is more likely to carry home a 



FALSE PRIDE. 485 

market-basket or a parcel, or to wheel a barrow 
through Broadway, than many a conceited little 
snob of a shop-boy. 

Society has no measure of character. It de- 
mands, therefore, a certain style, dress, manner, 
and reputation, as the best guarantees it can 
have. 

It is not often necessary to intrude your idio- 
syncrasies or acquired peculiarities upon others. 
If you have a mission to be a reformer, choose 
proper times and places for your reformatory ef- 
forts, and try to adapt supply to demand. But 
otherwise, if you can not eat, drink, dance, play, 
or in any way amuse yourself as others do, let 
your refusal be as quiet and unobtrusive of cen- 
sure as possible. If, being a professor of religion 
of some of the stricter sects, you are invited to 
dance, or take a hand at cards, or make one of a 
party to the theater, you will remember that the 
offer is made in courtesy, and is to be court- 
eously declined, and that this is, probably, the 
only way in which you can express your disap- 
probation. 

Act, always, not rashly, but with a certain 
promptitude. Consider, but by yourself. Do n't 
stand, saying, " Well, I do n't know ; I would like 
to go, but I do n't see how I can ;" and so on, for 
half an hour. Particularly, when parting with 
any one but a lover, let it be at once. Long leave- 
takings are insufferably tedious — particularly to 
third parties. 

It is not polite to insist. For example, do not 
insist on paying, when another wishes to pay for 
you ; particularly do not, where it is at all proper 
for the other to pay. Struggles and scrambles, in 



486 EXPENSIVE ATTENTIONS. 

•such a case, are very ill-bred. If your friend is 
before you, in paying a fare, pass it quietly, and 
return the compliment when you have the oppor- 
tunity. But, of all things, do not offer to pay 
when you are receiving the attentions of another, 
who may claim the right to defray the expense. 
But when you are one of a party, for your con- 
venience, and asked out of civility, firmly insist 
on paying your part, before or afterward. There 
are certain proprieties of this sort, which no gen- 
tleman or lady can safely neglect. 

Yv T hen a lady, with ample means, wishes an es- 
cort to a place of amusement, to whom the ex- 
pense may be a burden, she can and ought to 
send privately and get her tickets, and then, sim- 
ply saying that she has them, and can go if she 
can find an escort, give a delicate intimation of 
her wishes. 

Many a lady thoughtlessly allows an admirer 
to almost ruin himself by expensive attentions. 
Twenty dollars for one evening at the opera, ten 
for carriage hire and bouquets at a party on an- 
other, with costly little suppers and presents, soon 
run away with a moderate income. 

There are many things utterly unmentionable. 
We do not only mean repulsive, disgusting, and 
wicked things, but things it would be indelicate to 
speak of, such as personal favors done to another, 
the loan of money, dress, or ornaments, family 
quarrels, certain personal misfortunes, and the 
mysteries of love. The clergyman who should 
reveal the confidences of a parishioner, the phy- 
sician or surgeon who should betray the secret of 
some malady or operation, the lawyer who should 
gossip of the affairs of his client, would deserve 



ROMPING GAMES. 487 

universal execration ; so does any person who be- 
trays confidences, or even accidental discoveries 
of a similar character* 

When a misfortune has occurred, or a crime has 
been committed, people seem to act as if it were 
desirable, by the utmost publicity, to aggravate 
the evil, when the first impulse with every one 
should be to remedy, to conceal, if publicity be 
undesirable, and to prevent future evils of a sim- 
ilar character. Where the pride of a family, the 
reputation of a woman for virtue, or of a man for 
honesty, are threatened, those who raise a hue 
and cry are something worse than the wolves who 
fall upon and devour a wounded companion. 

In some companies, particularly on festive oc- 
casions, romping games are introduced, with for- 
feits of kisses. A gentleman will not abuse the 
freedom of such an occasion. If required, play- 
fully, to salute a lady, he will do so prudently 
and delicately — kissing her hand, her forehead, 
at the most her cheek. She will not offer her 
lips, if she be a lady of delicacy, nor will he in- 
sist upon what no mere occasion, or circumstance, 
not even that of being her husband, can give him 
a right to, without her gracious permission. 

When asked, "How do you do?" it is not ex- 
pected, by any one but the family physician, that 
you should go into the details of your illnesses. 

A lady seldom speaks of "My husband," but 

of Mr. ; still more a gentleman neither says, 

"My wife," nor, unless a very remarkable snob, 
" My lady ;" but he speaks of Mrs. Jones, as he 
would of any other lady ; if he enters their names 
on a hotel register, it is not Mr. Jones and lady, 
but Mr. and Mrs, Jones. We do not speak to a 



488 DISTINCTIONS. 

man of his wife, nor to a woman of her husband, 
but of Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so. 

The eldest daughter is Miss Jones, the others, 
Miss Mary Jones, etc. When the elder is mar- 
ried, the next in age becomes Miss Jones. Young 
ladies are very particular about these forms, and 
must be spoken to, or of, with their proper titles. 
Boys under fifteen, or whatever the manly age 
may be, are called master, with the same distinc- 
tions as with the young misses. 

As a lady in society may converse with any one 
properly introduced, or whom she finds admitted 
to the same circle, so she is at liberty to corre- 
spond by letter, if desirable, with any such per- 
son ; and no one would presume to have the right 
to intrude in one case any more than in the other. 
The tone of society, in respect to the rights and 
freedom of the sexes, grows every day more pure. 
Less evil is done than formerly — at least, less is 
imagined. We have come from the harems and 
seclusions of barbarism to the comparative free- 
dom of civilization. The higher and more refined 
the society, the more free from restraints ; and we 
seem to be tending to' the recognition of the abso- 
lute right of self-ownership and self-control. 
Freedom comes to those who are worthy to enjoy 
it. Even with some liabilities to abuse, it may be 
better than slavery. 

In writing, if you make a mistake, it is better 
to pass your pen through the word than to erase 
it, and not even then to blot it out too carefully. 
Scraping out words is only for account-books or 
documents requiring great neatness. 

It is very impolite to write even the smallest 
billet on a single leaf. 



SQUEAMISHNESS. 489 

In writing, figures are used only for sums and 
dates ; all numbers of persons or things otherwise 
are to be written out. In writing for the press, 
write, capitalize, and point as you wish to be 
printed, and spell distinctly all words liable to 
error. 

In sending a letter by private hand, more than 
one seal, or any unusual precaution, would be in- 
sulting. But an envelope, closed with gum, can 
be opened readily by any one who wishes to do 
so. In fact, scarcely any letter is safe in the 
hands of the ingenious and unscrupulous. 

Never boast of any service you have rendered 
another. Perhaps a good general rule, covering 
all particulars, would be never to boast at all. 

Never ridicule the country, religion, or love of 
any one. It is well to remember that it was only 
the little accident of being born in one place 
rather than another that has prevented you from 
being a Turk or Chinaman, or whatever you may 
happen not to like. 

Husband and wife are like two persons in the 
cabin of the same ship — bound to make the voy- 
age together. But in society they are to forget 
each other — they are one ; the husband is to the 
wife another self — but she must forget herself. 

Squeamishness, or prudery,, is a misfortune, 
either of nature or a false education, which ren- 
ders the mind liable to the intrusion of what some 
philosopher has called " nasty ideas." 

To be easily shocked shows an intimate ac- 
quaintance with what is shocking. Those who 
make a business of condemning vice and immoral- 
ity, and are ready to believe evil of others, judge 
them out of a consciousness of their own habitual 



490 JUDGMENT. 

desires ; and this may be, and often is, a very 
false judgment. 

The man who thinks another will steal, or get 
drunk, or commit any immorality, because he has 
the opportunity, judges himself with a terrible 
judgment, because he judges another out of his 
own heart. Humanity and religion demand that 
we exercise the charity of attributing the best mo- 
tives rather than the worst ; and a charitable judg- 
ment, while it is humane to others, is favorable to 
ourselves. Every good feeling and every good 
action meet with a sure and abundant reward, if 
only in the consciousness of right endeavor. 



THE END. 




^0-0 SB Bo 0> 

*£? 73 W. 4m St. -<0 

R. W. CAEEOLL & CO., 

PUBLISHEES, 

CINCINNATI, OHIO, 

Have just issued the follow- teresting books, beautifully 

ing new, important, and in- J printed and neatly bound. 



THE ILLUSTRATED BOOK OF MANNERS: 

A MANUAL OP GOOD BEHAVIOR AND POLITE ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

By EOBEET DE VALCOUET. 

EMBELLISHED WITH NEAEIT 200 ILLUSTRATIONS. 

This work is written by an accomplished gentleman, of large experience 
in the polite world, and is both instructive and amusing, present- 
ing in an easy manner the rules of true politeness, and ridi- 
culing with keen sarcasm the absurdities of Society. 
1 vol., 12mo., pp. 600. Cloth. $1.75. 



THE HEROES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION 
AND THEIR ACHIEVEMENTS; 

Consisting of Biographical Sketches of Officers and Statesmen ; Picture9 
of Great Battles, Sieges, Desperate Charges and Skirmishes, Per- 
sonal Encounters and Daring Exploits, with all else of interest 
connected with the National Struggle for Existence. 

By Rev. P. V. FERREE, M. D., 
Of the Ohio Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church. 

EMBELLISHED WITH A LIFELIKE P0RTBAIT OF GEN. GBANT. 

1 vol., 12mo., pp. 550. Cloth. 82.00. 



THE ODD FELLOW® MINSTREL: 

A Collection of Odes for the Use of the Fraternity on Anniversary Occa- 
sions, Dedications, Social Reunions and Festivals, Funerals, 
Lodge Meetings, Corner-stone Ceremonies, Public 
Installations, etc. 
Edited by J. FLETCHER WILLIAMS, 
Of St. Paul, Minn., Past Grand Secretary, and Grand Representative from 
Minnesota in the Grand Lodge of the United States. 
32mo., pp. 153. Flexible Cloth, 75 cts. 



INCIDENTS OF THE WAR: 

HUMOROUS, PATHETIC, AND DESCRIPTIVE. 

By ALF. BUENETT, 
Comic Delineator, Army Correspondent, etc. 
1 vol., 12mo. Illustrated. Paper, 75 cts. Cloth, $1.25. 
_*o% 

NELSON'S MERCANTILE ARITHMETIC, 

FOR COMMERCIAL SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES.* 

A Hand-book for Merchants, Bankers, Manufacturers, Mechanics, Farm- 
ers, and Professional Men ; containing all the forms and informa- 
tion needed in the ordinary practical avocations of life. 

By RICHARD NELSON, 

President of Nelson's Commercial College, Cincinnati. 

Cloth, $1.25. 

SHAKSPEARES COMPLETE WORKS: 

Comprising his Dramatic and Poetical Works, accurately printed from 

the text of the corrected copy left by the late George Steevens, 

Esq., with a Glossary and Notes, and a Memoir, by 

Alex. Chalmers, A. M. 

ILLTTSTBATED WITH HISTOBICAL STEEL ENGBAVINGS 

1 vol., 8vo., 828 pages. Library Binding, $4.50. Turkey Antique, $9.00. 

f\ 7 4 

%HE GUN-BOAT SERIES 0E JTJYENILES-g 7 4 

FRANK, THE YOUNG NATURALIST $1.25 

FRANK ON A GUN-BOAT. 1.25 

FRANK IN THE WOODS. (In Press.) 1.25 

TO BE FOLLOWED BY TWO MOBE VOLUMES. 



















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